For the past ten years, the third week of January has carried a familiar rhythm. A train ride from Kingston Station to Penn Station. The gentle sway of the rails gives way to the underground hum of the city. This year, as in years past, I stepped out into New York City and walked to my hotel with that familiar mix of anticipation and comfort. We always have a great National Sales Meeting—but I’ve come to believe the city itself plays a quiet role in that success.
And then there’s Times Square.
Times Square never grows old. It is motion, energy, and ambition compressed into a few glowing blocks. The hustle is unapologetic. Street performers, vendors, tourists, locals moving with purpose, all beneath a canopy of light that never seems to sleep. It’s a place where spontaneity feels scripted and yet somehow authentic. I love watching first-timers—especially members of our team—take it all in at night, when the lights and animations turn the city into something almost theatrical. You can’t help but smile at their awe. I still feel it myself.
We love the Broadway shows, the restaurants that impress even our most devoted foodie friends, the sense that anything is possible at any hour. New York feeds the senses and challenges the imagination.
But my center of gravity is Narragansett.
Where Times Square surges, Narragansett breathes. Where one dazzles with light, the other calms with water. The pace is different. The soundtrack is different. The ocean replaces traffic. Gulls replace horns. Wildlife refuges stand in for skyscrapers. A world-class beach becomes the constant backdrop of daily life. It’s quieter, yes—but it’s deeply alive in its own way.
The two places couldn’t be more different, and yet they share something essential. Both have character. Both have stories layered into their streets and shorelines. Both invite observation, reflection, and gratitude. One reminds me how big the world is. The other reminds me of where I belong in it.
Maybe it’s the pace. Maybe it’s the wildlife. Maybe it’s simply the comfort of familiarity.
Or maybe it’s because Narragansett is home.
And that, like Times Square on a winter night, never grows old either.
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