For a few years (a "season") in the early 1980's, I was the keyboard player in a contemporary pop band. I can't really call it a detour from the traditional jazz road I traveled. More of a concurrent journey. In fact, for a good while I split my gigging with Eastwind on the weekend (Friday/Saturday/Sunday) and a society/jazz band during the week (Tuesday/Wednesday/Thursday). Monday night was only my night off. I didn't think twice (and certainly didn't mind) about being one of 8 or 9 people in the movie theater, or knowing I could walk into a restaurant and sit just about anywhere I wanted. When I finally had a Saturday night off and decided to go to the movies, I had a rude awakening, and remember asking myself "Why do people do this?" Similar to the feeling I would often have driving to gigs and watching the rush hour crawling along in the other direction, I've always appreciated my upside down life. It's the only one I know how to live. 
I've had reason, in recent weeks, to ponder on this season. This (quite large) painting arrived by UPS recently. There is a tragic story behind it. Eva, our vocalist's daughter, who was 16 or 17 at the time, painted this logo scene, which we would take to gigs and display on stage. Not long after she painted this, she passed away in her sleep, with no warning or suitable explanation. Mignon (Eva's mother) saved the painting, displaying it in her home. Mignon and I had lost touch some time ago, and I was saddened to be informed by her niece that she has passed away. Knowing my place in this history, she graciously offered to send me the painting. Both sad and happy memories. For everything there is a season.