Yea, video games, it’s my thing. I called this one. I’ve been playing them since the day my parents bought us this magical game called Pong. From there it was a slippery slope. Pong was the gateway drug to the harder stuff that would consume my being for years to come. And if Pong was marijuana, then the Odyssey was cocaine. The Atari? Giant rocks of crack. Oh yea, I was hooked but good.

There were plenty of great games for Atari (Yar’s Revenge, Pitfall, Combat, Rampage) but one game ruled above them all. One game which would lead to a lifelong fascination with other games like it, one game which had an antagonist so mean that he haunts my dreams to this day, one game that I played so often I can probably navigate it with my eyes closed.

Adventure for Atari.

Sure, it may seem simplistic and crude now. But back then? This was a thrill a minute. Going from room to room to find all the objects, figuring out what to carry and what to drop, navigating the mazes, finding keys, opening doors, hunting for the chalices, slaying the...the.....what was that? A dragon? A duck? We took to calling it a Drucken. I know it was supposed to be a fierce dragon but really. How much did that look like a duck? Maybe even a chicken? So at first I laughed at it. I mocked it. That thing is supposed to keep me from my quest? Surely you jest. Well, I learned my lesson. Do not mock Yorgle. See, Yorgle had this way of appearing out of nowhere. He was a stealthy bastard. But what made me respect/fear Yorgle and (and then Grundle and Rhindle) the most was that godawaful noise he made as he attacked you. It was terrifying. Some kind of chomping noise that seemed to echo in your ears and vibrate in your stomach for seconds after it sounded. That sound was like a iron gate crashing on your soul. I’d hear that and panic. He was right on top of me! Can’t let him eat me! Chomp! Chomp! Arrow, use the god damn arrow, you moron! And I’d have maneuver my character - well, my square - til it was in just the right spot with the arrow facing the duck dragon dude as he bore down on me and, ohhh yesssss. Right in the gut. The game made a satisfying noise as the dragon was slain. I’d stare at Yorgle for a second, gloating over my victory, saying out loud “chomp this, asshole.” Sigh of relief. Shake off the nervousness. Onward, soldier. There is a chalice to be found.

Adventure awaited in the other rooms. Not just adventure, but secrets as well. Who doesn’t remember the first time they found that Easter Egg? Finding that magic dot in the black castle and figuring what you had to do with it...well, I’m not so sure I figured that out on my own. I think there might have been a gaming magazine involved. Electronic Gaming maybe? My memory is fuzzy at this point. We’re talking 1978 or so here. For all I know I could have discovered the secret through some portal that opened up in my mind some smoky, stoned evening. The payoff of this secret part of the game? You got to see a room with the programmer’s (Warren Robinett) name. Whoa. Mind blowing, I know. But at the time, Atari had refused to let their programmer’s take credit for their games. So Robinett snuck that in there. Way to go, Warren.

There were also little quirks like different ways to get around the bat or make it so the dragon can't eat you. I loved finding this stuff out. I loved the whole idea of being on this quest, challenging myself to go farther, to push that dot to it’s maximum capability, to finish off all three playing levels of this game and then start all over again because I never wanted it to end. I thought how cool it would be if they would expand the game because I wanted more. More dragons to slay, more treasure to find, more quirks to discover.

Eventually, Nintendo answered that call. Super Mario, baby. Clearly the successor to Adventure. My sister and I bought a Nintendo the week it came out and subsequently spent the next month at least glued to the tv set, giving up sleep, real food and interaction with civilization to guide this little fat dude through some magical world that looked eerily similar to my last visit to the mystical world of LSD hallucinations.

Super Mario Bros. was Adventure times infinity. It had all the magic of Adventure - the quest, the hero, the villians, the scrolling from screen to screen as you tried to find your way around. But it was so much more. It was that expansion I was looking for. More worlds. More hidden features. More surprises. You never knew what would happen next. Would this brick bring a star or a mushroom? What will happen if I crouch down on this pipe? You can go up into the clouds!! Every time you played, there was something else to find, another clever trick or hidden surprise. I had so fully integrated myself into the world of Mario at one point that my sleep deprivation hallucinations took on Mario-like qualities. That garbage can in the road was a Koopa Troopa. That wasn’t my mother screaming at me to get a life and get out of the house. That was Bowser! Man, was my mother pissed when I threw a hammer at her that one time.

As much as I loved Adventure, it lacked one thing that SMB gave me. A life lesson. Sure, you can find a lesson in Adventure if you think hard enough. Stay away from dragons that look like ducks? Go left in a maze when your mind tells you to go right? No, nothing compares to the metaphor for life that appears when you finally complete your Mario mission. Do you get confetti and a ticker tape parade? No. Do you get a hero’s welcome in the Princess’s land? No. You get this:

Thank you Mario! But our princess is in another castle!"

What?

What the fuck? Another castle? I spent a month of my life giving up sleep, food and bong parties so you can cock tease me with this ending? I was dejected, furious and saving my money for the next installment of the game.

It wasn’t until many years later that I realized just how awesome that ending is. See, that, my friends, is how you learn coping skills. That's how you learn to handle disappointment. Put your kids in front of Super Mario Brothers and let them play their little hearts out until they think they won, and then those lowly mushroom retainers appear with the bad news and your kids will have learned one of life's greatest lessons. Disappointment sucks, but you must go on! I taught my kids how to play SMB at an young age just so I could let them know early on in life what if feels like to have the rug pulled out from under you. To work hard at something to achieve a goal and then to have that goal swiped from you at the last minute. The disappointment. The anger. The realization that life fucking sucks sometimes. It will all come in handy later on: "I know you completed the entire project on time and you did a great job, but I think I want you to write me a ten page essay, too." THANK YOU MARIO! BUT OUR PRINCESS IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE! Oh, thanks for spending eight hours slaving over a hot stove to cook this amazing dinner for me darling, but do you think you could go back in the kitchen and bake me a pie, bitch? THANK YOU MARIO! BUT OUR PRINCESS IS IN ANOTHER CASTLE!

You just can't beat a video game that's not only fun to play, but gives you a harsh dose of the realities of life to boot. -(M)

Del the Funky Homosapien - Proto Culture
Voodoo Glow Skulls - Trouble Walking

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