In 1993, Mario Mania was everywhere. Memorial Day Weekend marked the release of the much anticipated Super Mario Bros. movie starring Bob Hoskins and John Leguizamo as the Bros., and Dennis Hopper as the arch villain sex-crazed dinosaur, King Koopa. Never mind its total disregard of the game's canon and the lousy acting (the stars of the movie would years later admit to getting intoxicated on the set each day to get through the hellish shooting) - every true game player except for the hardcore SEGA fans (who were no doubt waiting to jump the first kid that asked, "So, dude, when's the Sonic movie coming out?") made the trek to see the first game-to-movie adaptation in the history of cinema. It was a duty, a privilege for us. And even when I remember walking out as a child thinking the whole thing a disaster (except for the bob-omb, which was beyond cool), I still had a hole inside of me that could only be filled with a visit to the mall to pick up a few of the movie action figures, then a quick trip to 7-11 on the way home for a Yoshi-flavored Slurpee.

I located the late Dennis Hopper's King Koopa jacket that he wore in the movie and immediately purchased it because I am insane. With enough effort, I can still smell the lingering tinge of hard liquor (and even harder regrets) embedded in the embroidery. I found a powdery residue in one of the pockets, too. I hope to someday fulfill a life-long dream of mine to get married in this jacket.

Outside of Hollywood, 1993 had no less than nine Mario-themed releases, ranging from a puzzler set in a bakery (Yoshi's Cookie) to a first-person safari shooter that used the battery-sucking accessory known as the Super Scope (Yoshi's Safari) to edutainment software for pre-schoolers (Mario's Early Years!). A sequel to Super Mario World was still a couple of years away, so that summer, Nintendo set out to release its first remake of their past greatest hits: the classic Super Mario Bros. games 1-3 including the brand new addition of the original never-before-released-in-the-US Super Mario Bros. sequel dubbed The Lost Levels.

The compilation also had for the first time a "Battle Game" option selectable on the title screen of Super Mario Bros. 3. This multiplayer mini-game is a re-imagining of the Mario Bros. arcade coin-op. The rules are simple: be the first to collect five coins from fallen baddies and not die. Luigi win!

First released in Japan late July as Super Mario Collection, the game arrived stateside with a new name, Super Mario All-Stars, a few weeks later to adoring fans and newcomers alike. Rather than straight-up ports of the NES titles, the games on All-Stars featured updated 16-bit graphics and sound effects and the all-important save feature so that progress could be kept by pausing the game at any time to bring up the option.

I considered myself a purist back in those days, a gamer of the most refined taste in my formidable years. So settling down to my bean bag chair, fitted in my OshKosh B'gosh loungewear and swirling a glass of chilled Ecto Cooler after a long day of throwing rocks in the backyard, I opened the month's Nintendo Power and read of the upcoming Super Mario All-Stars. "Remaking games already perfect? What a laugh, Teddy!" I said talking to my Teddy Ruxpin that sat within earshot of my tangent. "No, not a laugh, what a booore! A quite unpleasant boooooore! Now see here, Teddy. There will be none of that coming into this house! Not if I have anything to say about it! Fetch me my Michelangelo slippers."

I never did own Super Mario All-Stars. My pride was too much of a hindrance to ever consider it. I looked down on the other kids who helped make the game a Million Seller Player's Choice with scorn for whoring out for something as cheap and sleazy as better graphics and the ability to create four separate save files - for turning their backs on the Nintendo Entertainment System during its last days of life support, when it most needed to be surrounded by loved ones (the following year's Wario's Woods would be the last licensed NES game).

Today, however, I can see the purpose and worth of remakes. They reenergize older games by bringing them to newer, younger audiences in a sleeker presentation that makes them a bit more accessible. Underneath the veneer, though, the successful remake retains the original's fundamental gameplay. Super Mario All-Stars does just that because some things simply are timeless. Kuribo's shoes simply are timeless.

As for the prototype, I knew what I was getting myself into when buying a cartridge clearly marked "FINAL," but the foolish gambler in me still took the chance and I forked over a hefty amount of money to see if this version had a Birdo strip poker mini-game. It did not. The game appears to be, byte for byte, the same as the released US version. All I can say is I am glad that I rarely visit Atlantic City anymore, and when I do, it's only to pick up a pound of boardwalk fudge and salt water taffy. I know the fudge and taffy will never leave me penniless outside of Trump Taj Mahal at 3 AM - the witching hour - when the city's hookers pull their tricks.

The prototype has been dumped and no changes and is byte-for-byte identical to the retail game.

In celebration of Mario, for all of the memories he has given me, I would like to properly thank him (and the whole gang) with a special gift of my own giving. Thank you, Mario Bros., for always being a friend.