I hope you enjoyed the Easter season and had a chance to gather with family/friends as the Christian world commemorates the ancient event that changed our world.

The month of April opens with a smile and a wintry blast. And, dear reader, we have a lot on our collective plates.

As for April Fools’ Day, enough said. This year we were not concerned with sophomoric pranks, for we were focused upon, or terrified of, domestic politics, overseas wars, AI and/or March Madness. Take your pick.

As the sun set on Easter Sunday, we watched our friends on TV land point at green screens that warned us that we were in the bull's eye of a significant storm.

Swell – that is all we need – another significant storm to tear up the electrical grid, create more downed trees, and create another run on overpriced eggs at Hannaford.

And on the horizon, they say, we will have a total eclipse on Monday (April 8).

I am sure this unusual but predictable celestial event will trigger the knuckleheads to flood social media sites with theories that make no sense. But isn’t that why they created social media in the first place?

Will they claim the eclipse was due to alien space lasers? Maybe it was crafted by Chinese scientists seeking to rig the American League East standings so the Red Sox are permanently ensconced in last place?

Maybe it is a secret plot by a voting machine conspiracy backed by the communist/socialist Biden-backing liberals or the fascist Nazi MAGA gang. Will they blame MSNBC, CNN, FOX, News Max, Tik Tok?

Do you think someone will claim one of the blond warrior queen's trio of dragons swallowed the sun, then spit it out a few minutes later when it tasted yucky?

Or maybe one of the knuckleheads will pin the solar eclipse on another clumsy legal gimmick dreamed up by a group of recently disbarred lawyers.

You know them, the same gang that invented the fake electors plot to overturn the last election. We know their names, but I doubt anyone knows the name of their law firm. From the way they fumbled and dropped the ball, maybe it should be called C.M. & L. (Curly, Moe, and Larry).

Enough of this drivel.

Last week, when a 1,000-foot-long loaded cargo ship, a vessel the size of a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier, pushed over Baltimore’s Key bridge, it not only took the lives of a half dozen maintenance workers who were just on break after filling potholes, but it also threw a monkey wrench into the shipping schedules in the nation’s seventh busiest port.

But there was a bit of good news.

We are used to stories of public officials failing to act in life-or-death situations. Some school shootings come to mind where police responders were less than aggressive in confronting armed shooters. Not so in Baltimore.

When the ship’s harbor pilots learned the vessel was out of power, out of control, and heading for the bridge, they notified the bridge controllers to stop all vehicular traffic. The controllers, who monitor the bridge’s 35,000 daily vehicle crossings, agreed and closed the bridge. Their quick actions saved innocent lives. They deserve a pat on the back.

The other day, someone asked me if I had heard any reports on how long it would take to put it back up and what it would cost. I think I heard it took five years or so to build the Key Bridge in the 1970s.

I told my pal those questions were way above my pay grade, but remembered Maine’s DOT is working on the old Southport swing bridge over Townsend Gut. If memory serves me right, that is a two-year project with an $8 million price tag.

Based upon that job, heaven knows how long it will take to repair the Key bridge and the ultimate cost. The short answer is – a long time and mega buckets of money.

Meanwhile, we are back home watching as our elected officials try to find the millions we need to repair roads hammered by the recent high surf events and prepare for future storms.

And these same officials are wrestling with studies calling for extensive repair/remodeling/rebuilding of our schools. Recent estimates hover around $30 million. Remember, a few months ago, voters vetoed a plan to spend $89 million on school repairs and construction.

No matter what is decided, that task will require a property tax hike.

To paraphrase the characters in Monty Python’s version of the Spanish Inquisition, “No one looks forward to a fat property tax hike.”

And most everybody wants to provide the best education for the next generation.

This, dear reader, is our real-world dilemma.