I have a memory - about as vivid as you could get - of my dad coming home from work one night all excited. I was probably six at the time. Before explaining anything about his giddiness, he rushed up to my room and turned on my NES. As he cruised through the first level which we had both memorized at that point, he revealed the reason for his excitement: his friend at work told him about the secret 1-Up mushroom in the ceiling in world 1-2. He didn't remember exactly where, so after about five minutes of passing the controller back and forth, he jumped right into it. The iconic sound of a mushroom escaping a question mark box emitted and we couldn't believe it. How many more of these were hidden in the game? What else was hidden out there in the vast eight worlds of fantastic, perfect gameplay?
One more memory. Mario 3 had been announced but was far from a US release and playground rumors were spreading about what it was and how many graphics were in it (hey - I was 8), and then one day, my dad took me up to our local Easy Video to rent a game for the weekend. I saw something on the shelf that made me freak out.
"DAD! Come ere!"
"What's up?"
"LOOK!"
It was Mario 3. The Japanese version. Available to rent probably a good six months before it came out in America.
We. Were. So. Pumped.
We played through the first two or three levels, marveled at the gameplay and graphics and music and how cool it was that we could FLY! Then we got to the first toad house where he tells you to open any box. But it was in Japanese, and we had no idea what to do, so that's where we stopped. But man was that a feeling to play the game before everyone else.
So let's all raise our glasses in a toast to Mario and Luigi. Two Italian plumbers who have never used a plunger or wrench in their lives, but have effected people across the world in such a dramatic way.
Here's to you Mario Bros.
Salut.