Today I soloed.  To Eddy and other folks who use the air, I say, you have it easy.  No canals.  No bicycles.  Nobody parked in the driving lane.  Nothing much to run into.  Try re-wiring your brain to do the opposite of everything you ever knew about the last 45 years of driving in one day.  Then go out on the road.
 
It was bad enough with Chas along warning me, at every corner, that I was within inches of marooning myself in a canal, or killing the bicycle riders on the left shoulder.  “Move right!  A little more to the right!”  As I inched ever closer to the intimidating yellow line in the middle of the road, every synapse in my brain was screaming, “Move left!  Move left!”  This was not going to work.
 
The next morning, because of Chas and his co-workers doing male beer and sake bonding after work, I kept the car.  The drive home was fine, if you don’t count the permanent grooves I carved in the steering wheel with my white knuckled grip.  After recovering my composure over breakfast, I decided this was my chance.  I drove to a grocery store very close to the house.  
 
Feeling very confident, I loaded my groceries, made the correct right turn onto the left side of the road, and started home.  Only then did I discover the road was divided at that section, and I was, indeed, driving fully into the face of oncoming traffic.
 
Not to be intimidated by reality, I gave the left turn signal and smoothly slid into the correct lane, only terrifying myself a little bit.  Arriving home without further incident, I parked the Cube and called it a successful day.
 
Eddy would say, “Any landing you can walk away from is a good landing.”  I say, “Any time I make it home without stranding myself in a canal, hitting someone or something on the left shoulder, or having a head on collision in the wrong lane of traffic is a successful outing.”
 
You can stop chewing your fingernails, Chas.  I’ll get the hang of this.  And, Eddy, you have no bragging rights until you solo on the streets of Koriyama.

- Bobbie