As I drove up the winding road to my driveway, I idly mused upon the insignificance of economic theory as I contemplated the ominous thunderheads on the horizon. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 44 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 17 in Lyra. It was like a cantilever bra. Next, I hunted for Abell 88. It appeared in the eyepiece like Smokey the Bear. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I slewed to Abell 55. It reminded me of nothing I'd ever seen before. After that, I glimpsed B 230. It looked uncannily like whipped cream. With that checked off my list, I slewed to Abell 69. It was easy, just like one of Martha Stewart's doilies. With that checked off my list, I star-hopped to NGC 6254. It was as bright as dancing elephants. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I glimpsed B 379 in an unknown constellation that looked like a toaster. It took me back to the first time I saw that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. After that, I showed some guests B 131. It reminded me of a little triangle. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I looked at NGC 450. It compared favorably with Smokey the Bear. Then, for a real challenge, I tracked down M 56. It looked a bit like a Black Rider hunting for Frodo. With that checked off my list, I star-hopped to B 106 in Lepus. It reminded me of that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I logged NGC 2316. It looked like the face of God. Then, for a real challenge, I tracked down IC 1549 in Gemini. It seemed fainter than all the other smudges I've ever looked at. Then, for a real challenge, I nudged my telescope to Abell 95. It somewhat resembled its Hubble photograph. After that, I tried for NGC 742. It reminded me of a far-away cloud. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I tracked down IC 3457. It reminded me of a glimmer of the Big Bang.
After a short break to warm up in the car, I checked off B 258. It was not quite as bright as one of Martha Stewart's doilies. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I looked at M 60. It looked a bit like R2-D2. With that checked off my list, I star-hopped to B 609. It was better than Santa Claus.
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 fetid Dingo's kidneys.