As I drove up the winding road to Dinosaur Point, I idly mused upon the impact upon modern astronomy of the energy crisis as I contemplated the crystal-clear skies. When I arrived at the parking lot, it was filled with friends eager for a night's observing. I counted at least 51 telescopes set up.
I started my night's observing with one of my favorite objects, M 19. It shimmered, as if it were its Hubble photograph. Next, I checked off B 426. It reminded me of yet another globular. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I tracked down M 86. It appeared to be that graph in An Unpleasant Truth. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I added to my logbook IC 213. It looked uncannily like a Black Rider hunting for Frodo. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I had a chance to see B 307 in Hydra. It would be easy to confuse with the clouds I'd seen earlier. Then, I logged NGC 206. It looked uncannily like Demi Moore. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I glimpsed B 332. It reminded me of a cantilever bra. After I'd spent a few minutes looking at that, I studied M 51. It shimmered, as if it were dandruff on black satin pajamas. Then, for a real challenge, I stumbled upon Abell 36. It looked a bit like the exhaust from a diesel Suburban. Next, attacking my personal nemesis, I sought B 401. It was like smoke signals from a rampaging Iroquois band. With that checked off my list, I looked for and suspected B 171 in Triangulum. It appeared at low power like diamonds on black velvet.
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 yet another town star party with clueless newbies.