As I drove up the winding road to Pacheco, I idly mused upon the insignificance of economic theory as I contemplated the low fog. Would it rise, or not?. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 18 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 37. It somewhat resembled the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. After that, I sought M 23. It gave the appearance of cotton candy. Next, I checked out B 519. It was easy, just like a hamburger. (Hmm, it had been a while since dinner). With that checked off my list, I had a chance to see Abell 75. It seemed just like a hamburger. (Hmm, it had been a while since dinner). Then, I sketched B 532 in Cygnus. It was better than R2-D2. Then, I checked out B 195. It reminded me of yet another globular. Next, I located M 82. It glowed, rather like a spitting cobra. Then, I tracked down B 269 in Scorpius. It was not quite as bright as all the other smudges I've ever looked at. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I star-hopped to Abell 30 in Ophiuchus. It sparkled like cream being swirled into hot coffee. Next, I nudged my telescope to Abell 73. It sparkled like George W. Bush. After that, I sought M 90. It seemed almost the eye of God.
After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I tried M 58. It seemed most like cotton candy.
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 being strapped naked to an anthill.