Josh Ritter is the guy your mom wants you to marry.

Listen to this adorable recount of his night with the Boston Pops (came via e-newsletter):

Hello All!

I had a dream last night that my band and I had a gig the night after our concert with the Boston Pops. We were to be in the same building (Symphony Hall), but somehow things felt different. When I arrived for the show, the band and I got into a deep discussion about what songs to play; so deep, in fact, that we forgot we had a show to put on. We were laughing away at the songs and ideas we were coming up with when suddenly I heard "Girl in the War" being played over the Symphony Hall sound system. "Hmm," I thought, "Well, that song's off the list." Then for some reason I found myself out on stage with a tambourine and nothing else. But the weird part was that I was standing on a trampoline...

Our actual show with the Boston Pops was also a dream, but thankfully one that came true. While the details are fresh in my mind I'll jot a few down.

Symphony Hall, one of the greatest acoustic spaces in the entire world and a place that seems brimming over with the collected strains of music over the last century, was the setting. To walk the corridors and stand in the balcony is like climbing a high mountain and look back on how far you've come.

The project of bringing my songs to the Pops was undertaken by some folks at the Pops, my manager and booking agent, the arranger Sean O'Laughlin, my band, and myself. Zack Hickman in particular did a good deal of work with Sean to get the music to go smoothly. In most ways it was like any other show, but in a few crucial ones it was different. Firstly, Symphony Hall is big: 2,300 people is a lot of people. Secondly, this was a one-off show. If I forgot words or if the arrangements felt wrong or the sound system went out or the guitars were out of tune, that was that. Thirdly, alongside this incredible crowd our families were all going to be in attendance. I was pretty nervous for the rehearsal. Here, after a great deal of work on arrangements, set lists and set-up, we would see how the whole thing hung together. The orchestra was friendly, but not overly, still when the opening chorale written by Sean for "Best for the Best" began, I realized that the only way to enjoy the evening fully was to accept whatever was going to happen unconditionally. During the rehearsal the rain began to pour down Biblically on the Boston. "How Biblical," I thought. The thunder sounded truly enormous as well, and continued until the man tuning the timpani was finished.

We finished the rehearsal and I went back to the hotel, pressed my suit and paced around for an hour or so. The great poet Robert Pinsky had agreed to come back from Aspen to read a couple poems over my instrumental piece "Edge of the World," but because of the rain he and his wife had been unable to land.

Whatever fears the band or I had strangely melted away as show time neared. Symphony Hall was lit up and the sound of the house getting full drifted up into our dressing room. By the time we stood side stage and the orchestra tuned, the prevailing emotion was elation. That didn't subside for an hour and a half. "Idaho," which I played solo seem to fill up the hall, and from there, the orchestra swelled into "Best for the Best" and then "Other Side." "Monster Ballads," "Rumors," "Kathleen," "Adam" - every song was like unwrapping a gift. My friend, the violinist Hilary Hahn, told me once that the best place to listen to music is standing in the middle of an orchestra. She's right.

Midway through the set, Robert Pinsky, who had made it to the ground against all odds, read two beautiful poems and truly stole the night. Standing to the side of the stage and listening to him recite was astounding.

The audience was likewise astounding. It felt like we had won something before we even got out on stage, and in a very major way, we had. This sort of victory doesn't come around for free. It takes a lot of uncertainty and a lot of miles, a lot of sleep-starved nights and even more coffee, and it takes people who not only believe in you but are willing to show it.

The show went off without a hitch and we floated back up to the green room where there was champagne and slaps on the back. By the time we got back to the hotel it was 2:30 in the morning, but sleep came nearly instantly and there were no trampolines in it.

Swoon! Anyway, if you ever get the chance to see this guy in concert - do it! His internal goodness just shines through the entire set and stays with you after you leave. And the music's not bad either.