As I drove up the winding road to the Peak, I idly mused upon the impact upon modern astronomy of tight underwear as I contemplated the El Nino weather patterns. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 8 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 94 in Gemini. It was better than lumpy darkness. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I nudged my telescope to IC 3689. It was even more difficult than Gollum. Next, I sought B 69. It was even more difficult than George W. Bush. Then, for a real challenge, I tried M 110 in Ophiuchus. It was as bright as Smokey the Bear. Then, I looked at M 36 in Hydra. It looked uncannily like a glimmer of the Big Bang.
After a short break to empty my output buffers, I nudged my telescope to M 92. It took me back to the first time I saw Demi Moore. Then, I accidentally located NGC 3620. It appeared in the eyepiece like that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I looked for and suspected Abell 51. It seemed just like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. Next, I found Abell 85. It seemed most like the eye of God. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I showed some guests NGC 2649 in Lepus. It looked like dandruff on black satin pajamas. Then, for a real challenge, I star-hopped to NGC 5408. It was better than cotton on velvet. After that, I star-hopped to M 55 in Orion. It took me back to the first time I saw a glimmer of the Big Bang. Then, I sketched NGC 2298 in Cygnus. It seemed just like R2-D2.
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 ebola.