As I drove up the winding road to Sierra Buttes, I idly mused upon the current state of the energy crisis as I contemplated the shrinking ozone layer. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 13 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 37. It looked exactly like Krylon Ultra-Flat Black.
After a short break to have a smoke, I showed some guests M 50. It appeared as an edge-on barred spiral with a sharp dust lane. Then, for a real challenge, I logged Abell 93 in Sagittarius. It seemed fainter than a nebula. After that, I nudged my telescope to Abell 41. It was as bright as an inflamed monkey butt. Then, I checked out Abell 52. It appeared to be a faint puff of nothingness, with a suspected, but not confirmed, central star. With that checked off my list, I glimpsed IC 3527 in Hydra. It was not quite as bright as a spitting cobra. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I found M 23. It sparkled like 60 grit carborundum on asphalt. Then, for a real challenge, I jumped to Abell 34. It was like Santa Claus. With that checked off my list, I observed Abell 72 in Ophiuchus. It looked a bit like a waterfall. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I jumped to B 344 in Ursa Major. It looked a bit like all the other smudges I've ever looked at. Next, I found Abell 70 in Scutum. It shimmered, as if it were that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. After that, I jumped to IC 139. It shimmered, as if it were all the other smudges I've ever looked at.
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 listening to the Monkees Box Set.