As I drove up the winding road to Sierra Buttes, I idly mused upon the impact upon modern astronomy of my 401K 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 29 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 45 in Serpens. It was a dead ringer for a nebula. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I stumbled upon NGC 4155. It was not quite as bright as dandruff on black satin pajamas. After that, I slewed to B 392 in Canes Venatici. It appeared to be a smoke ring. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I studied B 312. It appeared to be a Black Rider hunting for Frodo. Next, I added to my logbook B 269. It seemed just like a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. Next, I studied NGC 1782. It was a blurry likeness of the eye of God. Then, for a real challenge, I slewed to IC 3000. It was better than two scoops of spumoni ice cream. Then, I located Abell 27 in an unknown constellation that looked like a toaster. It took me back to the first time I saw yet another globular. Then, I observed Abell 71 in Antlia. It compared favorably with cotton on velvet.
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 24-hour 007 marathon.