Confessions of a die-hard Marioholic
-or: how to drown oneself in plastic plumbers-
By:Toasty
 

    Yes, this is another one of those "this is my Mario-obsessed life" ramblings, but still, stick around for a while, for this one actually has some sort of point to it (well, sort of). But we'll get to that later.
 
    Now, the whole thing can be traced back to a day in (I think) 1987 when I first layed eyes upon a shop display of a NES running a copy of Super Mario Bros. Needless to say it was a stroke of thunder, and one that would have an especially long aftermath at that. Not content with paying through my nose for the systems and games who then get played to death, the sight of anything even remotely Mario-tinged has the effect of an electric shock on me. In a fashion similiar to quite a few sports-based manga, I've seen the light and have set out on a long and hardship-laden journey....not to become Japan's top karateka or baseball player, but instead to achieve the rather more quirky goal of being the biggest Mario fanatic, if not of all Europe, then at least of the Benelux region. And one especially effective way to obtain such a title is to surround oneself with as much Mario-related objects as possible. And just so happens, the masses of Mario merchandise out there are as huge as they are diverse, so I have quite a task on my hands.
 
    Of course, there's the general stuff such as keychains, pin badges and the like. Any amateur can get hold of those. But for one aspiring to such heights as myself, some rather more exotic items must be the order of the day. Think Mario christmas lights, cell phone straps, paper tablecloths and flacons of cologne. None of that is made up, those things exist and are as of now in my possesion (yes, even the bottle of Mario cologne) among many others. I'm staring at the box of Mazza christmas light as I type this, actually. The field of Mario-collecting is pretty much limitless. Just when you think you've seen absolutely -everything- they could have possibly slapped Mario's mug onto, some new oddity pops up and leaves you drooling in delight.
 
    Then again, that's not such an uncommon thing. Big Japanese series always spawn bucketloads of merchandise, especially with the Japanese who have such inventive manufacturers and such eager customers. The Sailor Senshi have adorned a wide variety of objects. Gundam and Godzilla rank among the great classics of typically Japanese mass-exploitation. And more recently, Evangelion and Pocket Monsters have been given the over-milking treatment. And I must say, I'm quite partial to the odd nifty Japanese item here and there as well (oh, for an SD Kaoru Nagisa keychain....). So in what way does Mario have something that makes his spin-offs that much more slurptastic than the others? It's not easy to tell. Perhaps it's Mario himself; many will agree that a chubby plumber with a big moustache is already quite an unusual pick for a hero. A helping of gentle surreality has enhanced the charm of the Mario saga no end. Riding long-tongued dinosaurs, battling walking mushrooms with big eyebrows and transforming into various outlandish forms is a far more refreshing prospect than holding off yet another bloodthirsty alien invasion. And now, imagine all of this loveable quirkiness materliasing itself in the shape of jigsaw puzzles, pencil boards and pretty much any other object you can think of. On the other hand, maybe it's just me. The coup de foudre effect that Mario has had on me is a lasting one (that's in my nature, I -always- stick to my man). If it hadn't been SMB running in that 1987 shop display none of this might have ever happened.
 
    And it's not as if it's always easy being a fanatically obsessed Mazza collector. It takes endurance, determination and most of all, hefty amounts of dosh. Ludicrous shipping charges, unco-operative postal services, severe frustration, a lack of space and an annorexic bank account are all in a day's work. And when I -am- on vacation, do I ever think of getting a tan or visiting local sights? Nah, the only thing on my mind is the question where I might track down some exotic spin-offs of our dear plump plumber (well, that's not -quite- true, with the money I spent on a new swimsuit, I had better use it). It's even come to a point where I seem to have developed a sixth sense for tracking down some amounts of Mario-activity (some brutes tend to tease me by saying it must be my "feminine intuition". Very funny, lads). Or at least I like to think so, but in truth it's a completely erratic sense that more often translates to plain ol' blind luck.
 
    For there have been strokes of overwhelming dumb luck here and there. Picture it: the very last day of your vacation in Perpignan. You head to a department store to fetch a canvas bag which you'll need for the voyage home. Up to the third floor and grab a canvas bag. In 9 out of 10 cases, you'd then take then stairs back to the ground floor but just this once you take the elevator. And as you exit the elevator on the ground floor, the your right, you catch sight of a couple of alarm clocks, tucked away in a glass display, featuring none other than the mug of good ol' Mario. After you digest the shock, you sito presto waste all your remaining holiday dough, overwhelmed that you should've been so damned lucky. Had you taken the stairs, or another elevator and not looked to your right as you left the elevator, nothing would have happened whatsoever. Just in case someone's wondering, this -is- based on true, personal experience.
 
    Well, and now for the punchline: I like it! Never once has the notion that this Mazza-obsession might be bizarre troubled me. Mario's perfectly likeable, so why not like him? Simple, really (then again, this is an Amsterdam citizen speaking. Anything short of gory mass murder will be met with mere shrugged shoulders and maybe half a raised eyebrow if you really take your quirks too far). But still, it doesn't seem like a bad approach. Eat drink and be Mario-merry, there's nothing wrong with that. Now if you were an Aaron Carter die-hard, there'd be reason to worry, but I see no harm in being a die-hard fan of our Mario, who stands for optimism, good nature and a very special blend of colourful lightweight surrealism. In any case, it never did -me- any harm. Just my wallet ^^.