Yes. We made a music video for a really moving, heartfelt song.

Just kidding, it’s ridiculous. So hilarious we had to film many scenes several times because the cameraman (self) couldn’t stop shaking. Thankfully, we didn’t need the original audio because there’s a lot of really unattractive snorting in it.

Have you seen it? Listen, if it wasn’t worth watching I wouldn’t be talking about it. But there’s a unicorn piñata and some Pepto-Bismol, and you just have to go watch it now…

Before we go on, I feel a tremendous urge to make the following announcement:

Except for the long hair and beard (which he valiantly neglected for this purpose), Graeme never ever looks like this in real life. He had never owned cowboy boots, anything red white and blue or destroyed a perfectly good t-shirt before. However, you might still see him around town wearing those hideous sunglasses because they have proven to be very resilient and are the ONLY ones he hasn’t broken, which is unfortunate.

As I was saying…

I woke up with the chorus melody one morning last October, and the word “Mexico” made its way into it, without any effort on my part. I hummed the melody to Graeme (“da da Mexico pa pa pa ra” was all the lyrics I had), and he suggested I turn it into a love song about how we met in Mexico.

Hmm, nah. Not this one.

What if it was a song about what to expect when you go to Mexico instead? I was born in Mexico City and lived there until our terrible wedding in 2012, and Graeme had been to Mexico many times before we met. Even lived there long-term for a while. WE KNOW THINGS.

Graeme’s eyes lit up and I ran, crayon in hand, to scribble the chorus lyrics on a piece of wrinkly paper with a poorly drawn picture of The Little Mermaid on the back.

You said you wanted to go (pa pa ra pa)
Down to Mexico (pa pa pa ra)
Before you get on the road (pa pa ra pa)
Here’s what you should know

We sat down to breakfast, the squirrel in my brain running at full speed, and a sparkly, faraway look in my eye. I hardly tasted the oatmeal as the first verse of the song pieced itself together:

When you cross streets in town
Nobody ever slows down

We were on a roll. I kept adding more verses throughout the morning, while Graeme came up with his own verses, scribbled next to furniture measurements in the shop. He came up with the part about the dark hair and brown-eyed señoritas who change your life, because that’s exactly what happened to him, of course.

He also came up with other bits that didn’t make it to the song…

It’s an autobiographical song.

Like Brett and Jemaine so eloquently put it:

What you are about to hear are true stories
(Real experiences)
Autobiographical raps
Things that happened to us
(All true)
BRING THE RHYMES!!

We have experienced all these things in the flesh, but Graeme is the only one who had that unfortunate toilet paper incident, because, well…he didn’t know. My cousin Jaime was with us on that fateful day and while Graeme fumed and washed his hands profusely, Jaime and I hid behind a tree and giggled.

“I always carry toilet paper in my wallet,” he told me, “just in case.” Because, unlike Graeme, he did know.

We had lots of material, and by the end of that October day, we had a song.

It came together so quickly and I was so excited I couldn’t sleep well or eat much for a few days, living off of adrenaline and music.

A few days later, I got some quotes from several music producers and went with Martin Trevox, an awesome musician in Spain who made the instrumental track. The first version of the song he sent was a bit wild and not quite what we had in mind; great for crazy dancing at a late night beach party, but a bit too much for us in our old age.

After much back and forth (during which Martin was entirely professional and showed admirable restraint and respect towards a persnickety customer), the song was ready for me to sing to it.

I recorded the voice tracks at a studio here in California. It was an exciting, sweaty experience and took several tries because my ears were so hot and my heart could almost be heard thumping rapidly in the first recording. I calmed down and we got it done in less than two hours.

Wow that is a fuzzy photo. I hope you liked it.

After recording, I sent the voice tracks back to Spain, where Martin added the final touch: Real mariachi trumpets. Apparently there are mariachi bands all over the world.

We LOVED the final version and listened to it a few dozen times the day we got it back.

And then, three months after waking up to this song, we went to Mexico for our yearly visit.

Grandpa Jim wanted a photo to remember the beginning of this momentous journey, but he also wanted to be responsible and get out of the unloading zone real quick.

We always have a great time in Mexico, even when we’re not having a great time (because it’s funny later), but this trip was a WHOLE OTHER LEVEL. We traveled for three weeks, filming this wild, awesome thing.

We started out timidly at a resort in Cancun, Graeme’s pride still intact. He would wait until there was no one around to slip into his outfit, set aside his nature, and behave in such a way as the world had never before seen. This was a Graeme Shoebridge you didn’t know. I did, because I have enjoyed his silly shenanigans in private for twelve years, but you hadn’t. Until now.

Embarrassed that people might think he wasn’t acting and was actually obnoxious by nature, he would immediately change back into his regular attire and feign propriety until the next scene.

A few days in, he stopped taking the shirt off, but would still hold on to the backpack straps in a way that reminded me of a topless old lady I saw once at a beach in Marbella.

She wanted to be brave, but when it came down to it, having dem boobies out after many decades of lactation and gravity turned out to be a more daunting experience than she had anticipated. She moved stiffly; her arms unnaturally (and unsuccessfully) trying to cover her chest. You could almost see the self-consciousness exuding from her wrinkly frame, like heat bouncing off a car hood in the summer.

In this same elaborately casual way, Graeme walked through the Mexican jungle, hanging on to the backpack straps and pulling them closer and closer together with each step.

We managed to avoid onlookers by getting up early and starting our filming by 7 AM, while all the more sensible tourists slept off their hangovers until about 10 AM, which is when the jolly, hairy-bellied men and their wives began appearing around the pool and settling down for a horrific sunburn. There is a rule that states all white tourist ladies over 50 must saw the tops off their baseball caps, and 12″ off their white pant legs, and they all adhere to this rule quite willingly.

The magnificent wedgie scene had to be shot about 12 times, during which Graeme parted with the remaining shreds of  his dignity, as there was a couple watching from afar and several workers raking seaweed and judging us silently. Then at the airport, I even offered to go get him a beer because the dancing scene was going to take a lot of courage.

But he refused, as he insisted on being completely sober during filming, so that he could say later that he had been completely sober during filming, and in this way impress the friends-and-relations.

You’ll never see these people again. You’ll never see these people again.

So he danced at the airport in his conspicuous outfit and boots, while other travelers looked on, leaning on their suitcases disapprovingly.

“It’s ridiculous people like these that make all of us respectable white tourists look bad,” is what they were thinking.

We flew to the city and entertained all the little cousins there with our antics, including a Mexican cake smash on my actual birthday, which is not at all like an American cake smash. The latter being the cuter of the two, while the former is way more exciting for everyone involved.

I didn’t have it so bad, overall. It took a certain amount of courage, not just dancing and singing everywhere, but also being seen with the American tourist who clearly lacked self-awareness. But we powered through.

And the result was so SO GOOD.

If you haven’t seen the video yet, you can check it out HERE!

Lots of other hilarious things happened behind the scenes (we went walking up and down the street recruiting guys to have a beer with Graeme for the Pepto scene; they were all strangers except for one!). A behind-the-scenes post will be up soon, for your further entertainment.

Also, since we published the video, we have gotten a lot of the same questions, so here are…

Some Answers

No, I did not force Graeme to do any of this. He did this to himself.

Yes, we wrote the song ourselves! Main melody and lyrics. Martin recorded all the instruments and brought our idea to life.

We filmed the whole thing with a phone. Much professional. Very video. Wow.

No, we didn’t hire anyone to edit the video. We had a very clear idea of what we wanted and it was easier to do it ourselves. We used iMovie and Final Cut Pro. Editing the video was almost as fun as filming it. The hardest thing was deciding which scenes to delete since we had run out of song. There are lots of great videos that we just didn’t have enough time for.

Yes, we are planning to record more songs and make more videos. We already have a few other songs lined up.

No, they won’t all be this ridiculous.