At Last

There's a song in my head.

For the past few days, I've been hearing strains of Etta James' "At Last" on my way to work, when I'm buying grapes from the street vendor, when I'm shoving crowds in the subway.

For those in the know, this was the same song that played at the inauguration ball on Tuesday. I think it sums up my feelings of the event, an exclamation of relief and joy for better days to come.

The NYTimes, however, expressed this more eloquently...

"It’s an adoring, slow-dance love song with a title that can evoke far more. Politicos can take it to mean the end of the Bush administration and the Democrats taking control. And Americans of all ethnicities can take it as a clear reference to Mr. Obama becoming the first African-American president: a decisive turning point in a history of slavery and racial discrimination. The song treats the moment not with self-righteousness or resentment, but as a long-awaited embrace: “Here we are in heaven/for you are mine at last.”

At last...