Mario 3

The concept may be silly, but Mario was at the height of cool when he wore ears and a raccoon tail.

I have not collected a leaf and turned into a raccoon.

As a child of the late 1980s and early 90s, I missed out on the Golden Age of video games when Atari and Nintendo fought for dominance over the many systems and campy titles that destroyed the gket. I however was just old enough to experience the excitement first hand when a little game called Super Mario Bros. 3 was released. It was like magic.

Looking back in time, video games during the 1990s were a wild experience, partially because our family did not own a video game system until well into the decade when the Super Nintendo had dropped in price for probably the third time. Until then I made it a point to sit in front of the TV playing Mario, Sonic or Mortal Kombat (which I was sure to never let my mother know about) when I was with a baby sitter or at a friends house. Out of all those games I would play, there was something special about Mario and Luigi (my favorite of the Italian plumbers). I don’t know if it was the strange world they roamed, the bright colors or the ability to, amongst other things, become a raccoon, but I absolutely loved the game.

For me, Mario also is a testament to the wonderment of being a 7 year old. Because I did not have the game systems that allowed me to step into the Mushroom Kingdom, I would create the world in my mind. I remember the many times in my life when I would run around the yard pretending to fly with the aforementioned raccoon leaf, or even just thinking about how cool it would be when I finally watched “Super Mario Bros. The Movie” (which I spent a long period of time searching for as an adult due to it’s legendary bad movie status). One memory in particular involves me running around the house, holding a leaf and pretending to fly, only to get sick to my stomach behind the couch and not tell anyone. I really hope that mess was cleaned up at some point.

It was not until I was a little older, probably 10 or 11, that my family owned their first video game console. And the best part about it was it came standard with two games: Super Mario World and Super Mario All-Stars, both following the exploits of the brothers Mario. Although we logged a great deal of time into these games, there were many others that had my attention just as much, including Donkey Kong Country, Super Star Wars, Fatal Furry Special and Mega Man X.

Ours was unique in that we didn’t hook it up to a TV, but instead an old computer monitor. It was nice because we could play without ever taking up the TV, which meant we were using a tiny screen, but never had to be kicked off because our parents wanted to watch something. In fact, many of the times we were kicked off the system were because my dad wanted to play, which was more often than I would have expected as a child, and much more often than he plays video games today.

As for my relationship with Mario, it has been rekindled a few times. There were some tracks of my college career when I would boot up the Nintendo to try my hand at Mario 3 or Super Mario World, and there was a week-and-a-half during a college break where I attempted to beat Mario Sunshine on my little brother’s GameCube. It was also during college that I bought a Nintendo 64, and with it my friends and I played countless hours taking each other on in Mario Kart 64. And while it was my intention to use it to make new friends, it provided me with so many more fond memories and great times in college than I had anticipated.

The only disappointing thing about playing all of these games today is that I no longer dream of Mario like I used to. It is one thing to play the games, but as a child I brought so much imagination and fun into the world. Today I escape into games as a way to veg out. For that, I feel a little ashamed. And so, to end this, I apologize to the 7-year-old version of myself for taking what was once a chance to be creative, and make it a mundane exercise. There is a lot we can learn from the younger versions of ourselves. Although luckily today I am hopefully bright enough to realize that running around the house after just eating is not the best of ideas.