A snow day in New York.

Mastodon bones were found in Inwood Park in northern Manhattan as recently as 1891.

It's snowing like the end of the world in New York this morning and there are surely Mastodons tramping down 2nd Avenue, looking to get into mischief, as Mastodons do.

We got an email yesterday around four telling us that New York City had declared tomorrow something they're calling a "Snow Emergency Day," and we should stay home with our families and loved ones and be safe.

All over the Tri-State area, people flocked to grocery stores. In short order, the shelves were bare. Milk was gone, bread was gone, Trader Joe's even sold out of low-fat cheese puffs, and over in the Whole Foods on 87th Street, there wasn't a single leaf of kale to be found anywhere.

Across the street from my apartment is a old tenement building painted forest green. On its ground floor is the butcher shop of the venerable Ottomanelli family. Though they live out on the island, the staff somehow made it in. My wife walked there this morning and bought a couple of their surpassing corn muffins for breakfast.

So the machine at work keeps chugging, of course, it must, we have a docket of conference calls scheduled today. Even during a snow emergency, the wheels of commerce must keep spinning.

In fact, every half hour of my day is booked from 9:30 to 4:30. From a day on the phone, I might well, like an old journeyman pugilist, end the day with cauliflower ear.

But for now, I've got my corn muffin, my Times, and Whiskey at my side. The snow is swirling outside, but in my apartment it's toasty.

And there's not a mastodon to be seen.