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I went to Washington, DC, over the weekend with a bunch of people. Despite an ill-advised half hour of getting lost in the 105-degree weather, it was a fun trip. The ostensible reason was to see the Art of Video Games exhibit at the Smithsonian. We all agreed that it was too small of an exhibit, and lacked depth and analysis, but was a good first foray of video games into an art museum.
As part of the exhibit, they had a few games set up on projection screens that you could try out. These included Pac-Man, Myst (which is USELESS in a five-minute demo), Secret of Monkey Island, Flower--and Super Mario Brothers, for the NES.
There was unsurprisingly a long line for Mario. Since I finished going through the exhibit before the others, I decided to wait in the line, cause why not. Waiting for my turn at the controller was my childhood.
- I remember what every single block is in the first few worlds. I know where all the secret portals are, where you can jump on the top of the screen, where the fire flowers are, where the invincibility star is... Everything. I have to add a caveat to this--we never owned an NES. The only time I ever got to play on one was at the family gatherings every summer. One of my cousins had one, and we'd take turns (the ten of us) playing. Which means I can't have spent more than an hour or two ever actually playing the game, and the last time I played it was 1990. And still. Every question-mark block.
- Almost everyone in the line was a kid, ranging from maybe seven to eleven or twelve. None of these people existed when this game was a thing. Though I'm sure they know Mario from modern Nintendo products (I heard one kid running after his mother in the exhibit yelling, "Where's my DS? I need my DSSSSS!!!!"), they wouldn't have nostalgia for it. Which shows that, even in a world of games with way more sophisticated graphics, Super Mario Bros. is still a damn good game. Good enough to draw the longest line.
- As I was watching the kids play, I was shocked. Cause they ran right past everything! They didn't hit any blocks, or kill any enemies! They seemed intent on getting through each level with as few points as possible. I've never seen someone play Mario without at least attempting to find a mushroom. But then I realized--this is part of why it's such a good game. These kids don't know anything about it; they don't know how they're "supposed" to play it. So they're running through the levels. But if they had more time on it, they'd explore the levels, find all the little hidden things and warp zones and coin caches. I also realized I'd always played it in a crowd of children, so of course we were obsessed with points. It was competitive--who could get the highest score (and set off the fireworks at the end). And you'd be watching other people hit the secret blocks--not to mention having my brother yelling at me to go down that pipe, what are you doing. (Mostly, actually, he'd yell, "DIE! DIE! DIE!" since house rules were your turn was over when your Mario bit it.)
In any case, I'm now very nostalgic about childhood video games, though I never spent a substantial time on them. When my grandmother got my brother an SNES (against parents' orders), I spent much more time watching than ever playing. Cause it was his machine, technically, and we only had one TV. So I think my entire experience with video games can be summed up by trying to get a turn at the controller.
As part of the exhibit, they had a few games set up on projection screens that you could try out. These included Pac-Man, Myst (which is USELESS in a five-minute demo), Secret of Monkey Island, Flower--and Super Mario Brothers, for the NES.
There was unsurprisingly a long line for Mario. Since I finished going through the exhibit before the others, I decided to wait in the line, cause why not. Waiting for my turn at the controller was my childhood.
- I remember what every single block is in the first few worlds. I know where all the secret portals are, where you can jump on the top of the screen, where the fire flowers are, where the invincibility star is... Everything. I have to add a caveat to this--we never owned an NES. The only time I ever got to play on one was at the family gatherings every summer. One of my cousins had one, and we'd take turns (the ten of us) playing. Which means I can't have spent more than an hour or two ever actually playing the game, and the last time I played it was 1990. And still. Every question-mark block.
- Almost everyone in the line was a kid, ranging from maybe seven to eleven or twelve. None of these people existed when this game was a thing. Though I'm sure they know Mario from modern Nintendo products (I heard one kid running after his mother in the exhibit yelling, "Where's my DS? I need my DSSSSS!!!!"), they wouldn't have nostalgia for it. Which shows that, even in a world of games with way more sophisticated graphics, Super Mario Bros. is still a damn good game. Good enough to draw the longest line.
- As I was watching the kids play, I was shocked. Cause they ran right past everything! They didn't hit any blocks, or kill any enemies! They seemed intent on getting through each level with as few points as possible. I've never seen someone play Mario without at least attempting to find a mushroom. But then I realized--this is part of why it's such a good game. These kids don't know anything about it; they don't know how they're "supposed" to play it. So they're running through the levels. But if they had more time on it, they'd explore the levels, find all the little hidden things and warp zones and coin caches. I also realized I'd always played it in a crowd of children, so of course we were obsessed with points. It was competitive--who could get the highest score (and set off the fireworks at the end). And you'd be watching other people hit the secret blocks--not to mention having my brother yelling at me to go down that pipe, what are you doing. (Mostly, actually, he'd yell, "DIE! DIE! DIE!" since house rules were your turn was over when your Mario bit it.)
In any case, I'm now very nostalgic about childhood video games, though I never spent a substantial time on them. When my grandmother got my brother an SNES (against parents' orders), I spent much more time watching than ever playing. Cause it was his machine, technically, and we only had one TV. So I think my entire experience with video games can be summed up by trying to get a turn at the controller.