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Every time I sit down to write this column, I have to abandon my first five ideas for fear that I will hurt someone’s feelings. I don’t write fiction and I’m not clever enough to disguise people’s identities. I know a boatload of freaks, and sometimes I wish I could tell you all about them. I have a mail-carrier story I’m dying to tell, but he might make the connection and spit between the pages of my Pottery Barn catalog, or make my subscription to Us Weekly become Us Monthly.

Some freaks you work with, some you sleep with, and some you share genealogy with. I do try to respect their privacy. Unfortunately, what ends up happening is I overcompensate by revealing my own spleen every chance I get. So I have this radio show, and frequently kind strangers will sheepishly say to me, “I feel as though I know you,” to which I respond, “Umm, that’s because you do.” Someone asks me how I’m doing; “Fine, thanks, and you?” is not a part of my makeup. Why I feel compelled to verbally rip out an internal organ and lay it in their lap confounds me, and yet I keep doing it. Usually I’m quite sensitive to the people who just want to get a quick answer and be done with me; these are the people I punish. “Oh you’re in a hurry? Well, I brought Satchmo, my oldest cat, the one who smells like waffles and fabric softener, to the vet and discovered she only has two teeth! They start off with thirty, y’know?” Maybe this is all in preparation for my golden years, when it will be socially acceptable and practically expected to tell strangers about my lower back pain, paranoid conspiracy theories, and general feelings of loneliness. I’m just getting one huge-ass head start. By the way, I have nothing but the highest praise for employees of the United States Postal Service. Email Mary at popularcreeps.yahoo.com

Forget cops and firemen; the bravest and most pitiable public servants we know are the teachers. It takes guts to face a roomful of kids these days. The neglected ones are prone to kicking. The coddled ones are prone to calling in their parents to change a grade or a rule. And the crazy ones? Well, who knows what they will do. In Charles Baxter’s latest novel, Saul and Patsy, one of Saul’s more screwed-up students becomes obsessed with his teacher’s home life, and eventually inserts himself into it. Creepy, funny, and knowing, this novel shows why local writer Baxter has developed an appreciative audience outside of the often cloistered Twin Cities literary scene. 3225 W. 69th St., Edina; 952-920-0633

Wisconsin writer C.J. Hribal explores post-World War II America through the activities of one family in his new novel, The Company Car. The story begins in 1952, with a couple getting married on It’s Your Wedding, a television show in Chicago. As the next fifty years unfold, they get taken for a ride by forces beyond their control. The patriarch is continually in search of safety and stability for his family, but neither protective parents nor small towns (part of the book is set in Augsbury, the fictional Wisconsin town where Hribal set previous novels like American Beauty) can block the machinations of a larger society experiencing great changes. 3225 W. 69th St., Edina; 952-920-0633

Specimen Days spans hundreds of years, from the Industrial Revolution to a post-apocalyptic world (you can decide how far in the future that is). It’s filled with ghosts, terrorists, neurotics, aliens, adolescent prophets, and artificial humans. This all might sound more like Neil Gaiman rewriting the Left Behind series than classic Cunningham, but if Specimen Days lives up to the ambition of this Pulitzer winner’s previous works, we’re guaranteed another languorous, haunting tale. A week after the book’s publication (on June 14), Cunningham will appear at the Fitzgerald with the poet Marie Howe as part of the Literary Friendships With Garrison Keillor series. Fitzgerald Theater, 651-290-1221, www.fitzgeraldtheater.org

Lauren Slater’ 2004 book, Opening Skinner’s Box, raised a storm when she wrote about the experiments neobehaviorist B.F. Skinner ran on his infant daughter by confining her in a box. Deborah Skinner herself rose from the annals of science to defend her father and condemn Slater. In Blue Beyond Blue, Slater moves into the fiction she’s been accused of writing, offering a set of adult fairy tales that explore the psychology of human relationships. At once amusing and deeply fascinating, the stories reveal that many of us are caught up in archetypes beyond our control, no matter how hard we try to write our own stories.

Clowes made the rare transition from favorite doodler of nerdy underdogs everywhere to Hollywood inspiration, when the movie adapted from his Ghost World graphic novel become a cult hit. The Oscar nomination he won for its screenplay hasn’t convinced him to mainstream his talents, however. In Ice Haven he continues to chronicle the idiocies and idiosyncracies of local characters who are quite ordinary, altogether bizarre, and often both. Clowes’s characters always seem to resemble our co-workers or neighbors–only he seems to know them better than we do. His expressive and largely unflattering drawings have an unrelenting flatness that is belied by his ability to reveal the hidden depths of personality. In Ice Haven he spies on a small Midwestern town experiencing a series of events loosely based on the Leopold and Loeb story.

This movie appears primed to be summer’s guiltiest pleasure: A sleek, sexy shoot-’em-up starring Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, who are, as you read this, undoubtedly having lots of naked fun in some exotic, far-flung location. But you’ll have to read more about that in some other publication. Back to the movie, in which the Butt and the Lips play a married couple, each of whom secretly works as a hired assassin. The secret gets out when they are both hired to kill their respective spouses. Who could be behind such a dastardly plot? Jennifer Aniston, of course.

The weather is warm, the sun is high in the sky–but don’t let yourself be deceived. There are crooks, murderers, and plenty of weirdos out there to get you, especially if you happen to be a winsome blonde. Find out how you might meet your end in this summer-long series that covers the early years of Alfred Hitchcock’s career; June’s screenings will include The Lady Vanishes, Jamaica Inn, Rebecca, and Rope. It’s worth taking advantage of this rare opportunity to see the icon’s less-famous works on the big screen, where it is easier to pick up on the clues the devious director scattered through his dark tales. Plus, it’s harder to miss his famous cameos–note, however, that he was quite slim in these early years. 309 Oak St. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-331-3134; www.mnfilmarts.org

Time magazine dubbed the current glut of twenty-somethings “Twixters” because so many are hovering between (or betwixt) college and career. Mired in this limbo, many embark on a quest to “find themselves,” which often requires changing jobs and apartments every six months. But instead of taking a decade to “think about stuff,” what would it be like if you had to decide the course of the rest of your life over the next twenty-four hours? In a cleverly convoluted plot filled with old flames and new truths, Heights moves among five New Yorkers who have to make these life choices by sunrise the next morning. Advance word is that star Glenn Close’s comeback performance is stunning; the movie as a whole is worth a double viewing. 612-825-6006; www.landmarktheatres.com

Burned-out, third-rate rocker starts music school for kids. Nerds, jocks, and princesses find joy and meaning and unity in their newfound desire to rock out. The hit film was, of course School of Rock, starring the gloriously second-rate rocker Jack Black; less well-known, until now, is that Black’s character was based on a real person, teacher Paul Green. Even if this documentary appears to be riding the coattails of the highly successful Hollywood version of Green’s story, it’s highly entertaining in its own right, thanks to Green’s frenetic and foul personality. Jack Black may be a spaz of the highest order, but this film shows that he actually shares this very special gift with another being. 612-825-6006; www.landmarktheatres.com