Nintendo's Rose Colored Glasses

first draft here. might switch it out for later ones if they change it significantly.

 

An old Power Glove hung over the exit sign like a mounted trophy. The front of the store glistened with chic décor and high definition televisions mounted on the walls, blasting out demonstrations of the current generation games that would soon be regulated to the bargain bin. Nevertheless, cradled in the back corner of this ultra-modern store, similar to a freak show at an old time carnival, breathed a small cabinet of games from the primordial past of the video gaming hobby. Old Intellevision, Atari, and, of course, Nintendo systems and games were featured in a glass case reserved for the true aficionados of the sport.

I kneeled down, so I could peruse the available titles. The names dripped off my tongue like honey: Castlevania, Megaman II, Metroid, PunchOut!, and The Legend of Zelda. All of these had been in my grasp at one point in history, but my mother had liquidated them like the comic books and baseball cards of so many mothers before her. But here, in this small corner of earth, a ray of light emerged for every adult’s inner child, who remembered spending a rainy weekend traversing a foreign plane in the guise of a pixilated protagonist.

The square box, known as the Nintendo Entertainment System, resided in most childhood homes and still retains a place of honor in the minds of many mid-twenty-something year old males. How many birthdays, Christmases, and other gift giving days were brightened by the arrival of a plastic box and gun, a pair of controllers, and a complimentary copy of the original Super Mario Bros.? To beat the game became the equivalent of riding a bike without training wheels or shooting a can off a fence with a BB gun. A new era had been ushered into living rooms across the country, and the world of entertainment changed forever.

The story of the original, and most of the later titles, may be cliché, but who really cares? A plumber lives in a magical kingdom. One day, a giant lizard kidnaps the princess, and the plumber sets out to return the monarch to her throne. Along the way, he encounters walking mushrooms, dumber than bricks turtles, flying fish, and seven phony castles all offering the same bit of advice: “Our princess is in another castle.” Finally, the hero hurls the villain into a pit of fire, and the princess and her savior are reunited. But before the joy of the moment can register in the player’s mind, a new quest is quickly presented, and the journey begins anew.

            According to Homer Simpson, Rock and Roll achieved perfection in 1974; I would like to put myself in the same class of genius and label 1990 as the year video games reached the pinnacle of their achievement. Just one day after Mike Tyson ate the canvas for the first time, another bombshell descended upon the children of the 80’s who were taking their first steps into a new decade. This blessing took the form of a grey cartridge bundled in a yellow box; it was Super Mario Bros. 3.

            After the less than stellar American version of Super Mario Bros. 2, the next sequel was a return to form for what made the original title so enduring. The weird Japanese enemies were wiped from memory; goombas and koopa troopers returned as the metaphorical thorn in the Mario’s side. Yet, this game soared above being a mere rehash of the original with a new coat of paint. The world was expanded exponentially, and players could spend years unraveling every final secret in this microchip masterpiece.

            The gift of flight could be obtained by grabbing a leaf and transforming into a raccoon/man hybrid. To people untouched by the magic of old school Nintendo it makes little sense, but to unquestioning children yearning to explore the Mushroom Kingdom in ways they never had before, it was the most logical thing in the world. Gold coins, extra lives, and hidden passages were just a few of the wonders to be found above the clouds.

            To beat this installment required the support of as many neighborhood chums that could be mustered. Any serious attempt to rescue the princess, again, and restore order to the kingdom could only be tackled on holidays or during summer vacation; to set out solo in this game often resulted in swift defeat. Besides, each member of the neighborhood brought their own skill to the guild that swore an oath not to depart from the machine until the game was completed. Ben was a whiz at the Ice World; Chris knew the location of every hidden item and was a master at the spinning pictures mini-game; Jon, my brother, had unlocked the secrets to the Dark World and could reach the final castle with unfathomable ease; and I was there to take over when one of the more skilled players grew weary. Together we saw King Koopa perilously fall into the cavern beneath his castle multiple times before the locked passageway illuminated the holding cell of the princess. 

            My brother recently commented that he could play the third Mario game forever, and I would agree with him. Like a good book a lover of literature returns to every year or a favorite dirt road to take on a Sunday drive, this game only continues to astonish and delight with each new undertaking. No matter how high I climb or hard I fall, I will always chuckle when Mario spreads his arms to take off to the sky.

            With each new console generation, a new Mario game inevitably arrives in an effort to supplant itself as the greatest title in the series, yet all that have tried, have failed. In recent years, Mario and his brother Luigi have transitioned into the third dimension, but the charm and whimsy of why we played in the first place has never matched their less technologically advanced counterparts. Yes, we play the new games, but only to allow the titles we cherish to rest on the shelf and mature like a fine wine. In the end, we always return to the ones we love.

            Our parents bowed in deference to Roy Rogers, Mickey Mantle, and Elvis Presley, but the names that shaped our childhood were Simon Belmont, Samus Aran, and of course Mario and Luigi. Gaming had grown out of the dank video arcades and crude consoles that almost fatally injured the hobby in the early 80’s and transformed into a pastime that would eventually rival all other forms of entertainment.