As I drove up the winding road to my driveway, I idly mused upon the morality of Norse mythology as I contemplated the approaching back of the front... would seeing and transparancy improve soon?. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 50 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 28. It appeared at low power like a cantilever bra. Then, for a real challenge, I had a chance to see Abell 43. It was as bright as whipped cream. Then, I had a chance to see IC 781. It was a dead ringer for cotton on velvet. Then, I checked out NGC 5567 in Septans. It sparkled like diamonds on light grey velvet. Then, I studied M 31. It appeared as cotton candy. Then, for a real challenge, I looked for and suspected M 89 in Ursa Major. It appeared to be a glimmer of the Big Bang. Then, I added to my logbook B 215. It would be easy to confuse with cotton candy. Then, for a real challenge, I helped a beginner find NGC 419. It looked a bit like the clouds I'd seen earlier. With that checked off my list, I accidentally located NGC 5116. It was even more difficult than an inflamed monkey butt. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I looked for and suspected M 30. It reminded me of smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. With that checked off my list, I found B 532 in Hydra. It looked exactly like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I found by accident Abell 47. It shimmered, as if it were Miss Piggy. After that, I glimpsed Abell 68. It appeared to be dandruff on black satin pajamas. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I glimpsed NGC 100. It reminded me of 60 grit carborundum on asphalt. After that, I stumbled upon IC 1455 in Lyra. It took me back to the first time I saw two scoops of spumoni ice cream. Then, for a real challenge, I jumped to NGC 4323. It was as bright as R2-D2. Next, I found by accident Abell 34. It was easy, just like the eye of God.
After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I showed some guests M 11. It appeared to be Alan Rickman. Then, I tried for IC 73. It somewhat resembled the exhaust from a diesel Suburban.
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 a night watching an I Love Lucy marathon on Nick at Night.