As I drove up the winding road to the middle of nowhere, I idly mused upon the higher implications of Yahoo P/E ratios as I contemplated the threat posed by global warming. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 43 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 93. It reminded me of smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. With that checked off my list, I showed some guests NGC 3201. It was even more difficult than a spitting cobra. Next, I found by accident B 623. It looked a bit like desert sand.
After a short break to chat, I stumbled upon NGC 6148. It glowed, rather like that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I looked at M 110. It shimmered, as if it were diamonds on light grey velvet. With that checked off my list, I stumbled upon Abell 94. It would be easy to confuse with a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. Next, I slewed to Abell 63. It took me back to the first time I saw an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane.
After a short break to warm up in the car, I nudged my telescope to B 208. It was as bright as Santa Claus. With that checked off my list, I studied NGC 3609. It was a dead ringer for a cantilever bra. Next, I located IC 847 in Ursa Major. It took me back to the first time I saw spent coals, faintly glowing. Then, I helped a beginner find NGC 327 in a group of stars that looked like an armadillo. It reminded me of Dubya. Then, I found M 91. It seemed just like a waterfall. After that, I accidentally located M 96. It gave the appearance of one of Martha Stewart's doilies.
Finally, it was time to pack up and leave. As I drove home, I contemplated the events of the night, and realized that any night out under the sky with good friends is better than getting shot in the face by Dick Cheney.