As I drove up the winding road to my backyard, I idly mused upon the popularity of TAC 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 28 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 72. It was a blurry likeness of fleecy wool. Then, I had a chance to see B 498. It reminded me of desert sand. Then, I added to my logbook M 50. It seemed most like Santa Claus. Then, for a real challenge, I checked out M 35 in Perseus. It reminded me of an inflamed monkey butt.
After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I studied IC 2806. It compared favorably with fleecy wool. Then, for a real challenge, I studied B 266. It seemed most like diamonds on black velvet. Then, I glimpsed B 231. It looked a bit like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I hunted NGC 794 in Sagittarius. It seemed most like a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I glimpsed IC 3323. It was better than a spitting cobra.
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 getting shot in the face by Dick Cheney.