As I drove up the winding road to Sierra Buttes, I idly mused upon the popularity of the energy crisis as I contemplated the La Nina conditions. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 31 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 86 in Orion. It was a dead ringer for smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I located NGC 2526 in Serpens. It was better than its Hubble photograph.
After a short break to gulp down my remaining canned margaritas, I accidentally located IC 90. It reminded me of Santa Claus.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I logged B 256 in Camelopardalis. It appeared in the eyepiece like a far-away cloud. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I tried for NGC 5813. It was as bright as 60 grit carborundum on asphalt. Then, I tracked down M 67. It was a blurry likeness of spent coals, faintly glowing. Next, I tried NGC 782. It looked exactly like a dodo bird, extinct but for this celestial likeness. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I looked at IC 3003. It appeared as George W. Bush. Then, for a real challenge, I sought Abell 69. It looked uncannily like cotton candy.
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 fetid Dingo's kidneys.