Share your #Mariomemories with us
After sharing an earlier Mario retrospection celebrating the 30th anniversary of “Super Mario Bros.,” additional Los Angeles Times staffers started popping up and sharing their own Mario memories. So we rounded them up and compiled a look back at the way “Super Mario Bros.” influenced and affected us all.
All I wanted for Christmas was a Nintendo 64 and “Super Mario 64.” I was 9 years old and obsessed with the tiny, portly plumber and the endless adventures inside the Mushroom Kingdom. My parents hated the idea of buying me a new gaming console after giving me a Super Nintendo and a Game Boy. “Can’t I just buy the game?” I remember my mom asking me in a huff.
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But I needed it. Mario was prime escapism for me, a shy kid bullied regularly for my weight. I’d power through my homework and sit in front of the TV for hours helping my friend collect coins, defeat killer mushrooms, rescue Peach and battle Bowser, except this time in 3-D and in a world I could fully explore and without that pesky clock reminding me time was almost up. It was the first time I’d seen anything like it in a video game and I was enamored. My devotion to that little guy took me (and my parents’ bank account) through six consoles and more games than I care to count before I was old enough to start buying them on my own. But anything for my friend Mario.
My Nintendo system was a Christmas gift. It was my first game console, making the included “Super Mario Bros.” the first game I ever owned. It was a steep learning curve. While I was able to get through the early levels on my own, I didn’t really understand everything until I watched a gameplay video of someone clearing the entire game.
Yes, someone my parents knew made a videotape of themselves getting through the game and I watched the whole thing. That VHS tape taught me all about hidden blocks with 1-Ups, shortcuts, secret warp tunnels and that turtle shell trick with the stairs (that I never could successfully pull off on my own). It was my own personal walk-through guide.
Video games were not allowed in my childhood home. They were considered a distraction and potential bad influence. Many years later, at a family reunion in Florida, “Super Mario Bros.” would save the day. For reasons I now understand as an adult, all the kids were put in one room. Not a big deal if you plan on spending all your time outdoors. Unfortunately for the parents, it rained the entire time. However, hidden in the tiny kids room was one Super Nintendo and one “Super Mario World” game. Secretly beating this game without alerting our parents became our mission. Turns out the ban on video games was not only active in my household but implemented across my family as well, so this contraband would have to be handled very carefully.
Together my distant family formed a powerhouse think tank in hopes of beating this game without alerting our guardians in the process. Controllers were shared, maps were drawn, notes were taken -- it was probably the most collaborative thing my little child mind ever tackled. Stakeout cousins were placed in the hallway, one person was given the job of “blanket thrower,” tasked with throwing a blanket over the game just in case we were taken by surprise. When not playing “Super Mario World” we would talk about “Super Mario World,” quietly deducing where to jump and fly during dinner or secretly whispering new ideas of attack during lights out. A pack of boxed-in children sharing one video game could have gone disastrously, but it became an elaborate ruse that all ages could participate in. Months later, full of foolish confidence, I would boast of our ingenious hoax to my own parents.
They knew the whole time. And no, we still couldn’t get a Nintendo.
There’s a really weird episode of “The Adventures of Super Mario Bros. 3” cartoon that tries to teach kids about the evils of racism. The episode is called “True Colors,” and it first aired in 1990. It opens with the bad guys trying to invade a village of Mushroom People, only to be fought off by the villagers. So one of the Koopas comes up with a bright idea: They’ll drop paint on everybody, and start a race war. Half of the villagers get painted blue, half get painted red. Pretty soon, the whole town is divided, and fighting among itself – leaving the scene wide open for the Koopa kids to invade and take over. Just as the villagers are about to start a civil war, the Mario Bros. step in and tell everyone that “it’s not a person’s color that counts, but it’s the kind of person [you] are inside that matters.” The Mushroom People make up, and the crisis is averted.
But then the episode takes a sudden left turn, and the fourth wall crumbles into a heap of despair and pessimism.
After hearing Mario’s words, Luigi asks him if he thinks we’ll ever learn that lesson “in the real world.” Mario laughs him off: “Ha-ha, yeah. When humans get as smart as mushrooms.” He stares blankly into the screen – at us, the viewers. End, roll credits.
Thirty years after the plumbers first suited up, we’re apparently still dumber than mushrooms.
When I was playing as a kid all I was thinking was, “Oh my God I hate this. This is not for me.” It actually gave me a lot of anxiety. And even worse was Zelda.
Feel free to share your Mario memories with us on our Twitter page, facebook page or even in the comments here. Don’t forget to tag it #mariomemories
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