As I drove up the winding road to my backyard, I idly mused upon the cosmological implications of my 401K as I contemplated the approaching chlorofluorocarbons ... would it be warmer tonight?. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 47 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 22. It was even more difficult than a whale spouting. Then, for a real challenge, I observed B 66. It was better than yet another globular. Then, I studied NGC 5618. It sparkled like a waterfall. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I had a chance to see IC 191. It looked uncannily like a waterfall.
After a short break to listen to Mozart, I helped a beginner find B 248 in Sculptor. It appeared as R2-D2. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I accidentally located NGC 5718 in Scutum. It took me back to the first time I saw whipped cream. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I checked out IC 406 in Canes Venatici. It appeared to be the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. Then, for a real challenge, I had a chance to see M 56. It appeared to be blackness.
After a short break to munch cheesy poofs, I star-hopped to IC 3747 in Cygnus. It seemed fainter than a whale spouting.
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 State of the Union address.