You noticed that too huh? Bawahahaha Well said…
Acutally, of the gear-up accidents by ‘good’ pilots, it seems to happen most often when other things are wrong, multiple approaches are being made in an attempt to land and there is more than one pilot in the front.
YMMV
Yeah. The only person I’ve seen land wheels up was flying circuits in a T6-Texan and decided to change runways during the downwind leg. After his turn he was then late downwind and subsequently missed his personal cue to conduct the landing checks. A checklist would not have saved him because he forgot the whole check, including the checklist. I have also seen a two pilot crew forget the landing checklist (although they had done the actual checks), just because they were both distracted in the circuit.
Even though I was in a C152 when learning, my instructor always had me reach out and pantomime flipping an invisible lever during the landing checklist. He also had me twiddle an invisible knob for prop pitch. He said it makes it much easier to remember if you are flying multiple types of aircraft, instead of learning how to skim over portions of the checklist.
Pre-landing checklist in an R-22: Push down the right-trim lever. 
Any distraction can do it. At advanced training one of my pals was being chewed out over his approach by the instructor. As be broke the glide and settled in for the landing they heard a rapid tick, tick, tick. The instructor pushed the throttles forward and climbed to a low pattern altitude with quite a bit of vibration. They went around and landed again after declaring an emergency to the tower. Later examination showed about 3-4" knocked of each prop (wooden props).
The simplest landing checklist I’ve had was,
Brakes - not fitted
Undercarriage - fixed
Mixture - not fitted
Fuel - on
Harness - secure
In a Tiger Moth.
And in a Sopwith, even that one item was changed a lot on approach. 
That’s my kind of checklist. After WWII was over I was on a project to flyDouglas A-26’s back to the US from Kitzingen Germany. I flew up to Kitzingen from Schleissheim near Munich late in the day. That night the Colonel commanding the provisional group called a meeting and read the riot act about people taking off without using flaps. From now on anyone doing that is off the project was the word.
The next morning I was scheduled to fly so I got my plane, got its status from the crew chief, looked it over and got in. I called the tower, wheeled out to the runway, did an engine check and started down the runway. It didn’t seem to want to lift off for some reason but finally off I went at a flat climb angle, low over the town of Kitzingen and I reached down to bring up the flaps. There were already up.
On the radio came the voice of Col. Gov C. Celio asking the name of the pilot of Army 1234. My reply was Simmons.
Simmons, Simmons? You new here?
Yes sir, I got in last night.
Were you at last night’s meeting?
No sir. (A flat lie but they hadn’t taken roll.)
OK, but I want to see you when you land.
There was a placard with a pre take-off and a pre landing checklist on the instrument panel. From then on I was careful to always use it.
Here is a quick overview of what cadets in general is. And this will explain all about a glider sponsorship.
I guess the closest thing to it in the US is the Civil Air Patrol… Or Boy Scouts. Think of it as a combination of both… But with military sponsorship… To a point.
Basically, the military supplies uniforms, training centres and officers. The military also loves to show cadets around bases, so you get to see and do some cool stuff, which could be anything from shooting an assault rifle (this is Canada… That’s not exactly a common thing) to getting a ride in a CF-18 or going on exchange to another country (usually from the commonwealth, but there is an exchange to the US)
It doesn’t require any commitment to the military or anything like that, though it was started by the military back in WW2, to help train better soldiers/pilots/military people.
Some people really love the environment and end up joining the military. Personally, I liked it at first, but due to certain reasons (politics ranging from the squadron level up to the top) I tired of it. It also made me realize how little I can stand taking orders from superiors. I was thinking heavily of joining the military when I was going though it, but it also gave me a small taste of what life in the military would be like, and how little that life would suit me.
Hence the ‘touch the dashboard’ business.
On the ground I use a checklist. In the air I use mnemonics. If I was flying as part of a crew, I reckon it would be different.
I can’t tell any good stories about first solos because I’m not much of a storyteller, and all of mine have been uneventful. However, there is always a little bit of the thrill of the very first solo when I solo a new category or type.
My first first solo was in an old C172 that I’d been flying around with a 220+ lb instructor, so like everyone else the improved performance was a little eye opening.
Next big one was my first jet solo in the air force. As an instructor looking back now, I bet my IP back then was sweating my solo more than I was, because I really sucked. Same as the 172 solo; first landing was okay and the second one was a little better, but the last landing was a serious prang. The cool thing was that my instructor walked Mrs. C up to the control tower and she was the voice I heard on the ground control frequency clearing me to taxi back for parking after the solo.
My first solo cross country was after I’d been flying jets for a few hundred hours, so you’d think that taking the keys to a C150 that I’d never flown before would not be so exciting, but it was. Before the 450-mile cross country I took the plane up solo for an hour to get familiar with some stalls, spins and touch-and-gos. Next day I started out for what amounted to over six hours on three hops, saving me only about an hour off the drive when you account for time on the ground to get fuel. Once I got comfortable with the fuel burn, I was okay with two-hopping back but really didn’t save much more time. A C150 can be painful that way.
Glider solo was naturally a thrill, 'cause you can’t go around! And the first time I soloed a single-seat glider was fun too, because the handle was much more nimble than the large two-seat glider I’d trained in.
Most recently was the first tailwheel solo, which like every other tailwheel solo since then has been a lesson in relearning the wheel landing; for some reason I find them more challenging than three-point landings, which is exactly opposite of what my old boss (a test pilot) told me to expect - she thought wheel landings were more like landing a nosedragger and that three-pointers were harder!
I really enjoy whenever I get to solo a plane at work but those opportunities are few and far between now. Usually we fly for less than 1.5 hours, but recently took a company plane cross country and logged two 3.2 hour legs, allowing me to experience the saying “ran out of ass before I ran out of gas” (because an ejection seat is not comfortable after about an hour).
My first solo emergency was when I had a landing gear malfunction flying solo on a formation flight a half year ago; since I was on the wing for a wing landing, I almost missed the faulty indication until doing my traditional CYA gear check on short final - either something changed from my first gear check or my eyes had fooled me, but I went around and took the lead when I noticed a red light. Turns out it was a new plane, like less than 20 hours and had some hydraulic plumbing gremlins that another guy’d experienced the previous week. My dual lead couldn’t see from their position in front of me that the nose gear wasn’t fully extended, but felt really bad about missing another visual cue that my configuration was wacky: the gear doors were still hanging. After running the emergency checklist I landed uneventfully, but it made me take my Before Landing checks a lot more seriously, and reinforced my short final “last gear check” habit pattern.