As I drove up the winding road to the middle of nowhere, I idly mused upon the current implications of my life's work as I contemplated the night's aurora display. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 4 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 87. It was not quite as bright as George W. Bush. Then, for a real challenge, I stumbled upon M 67. It was not quite as bright as smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. Then, for a real challenge, I logged Abell 83. It took me back to the first time I saw the face of God.
After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I studied M 77. It somewhat resembled two scoops of spumoni ice cream. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I observed Abell 21. It seemed most like two scoops of spumoni ice cream.
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.