Editor's note: Matthew examines the appeal of Super Mario Bros., and finds that even today's young whippersnappers find it irresistible. At least the ones with good taste. -Demian

An unfortunate lesson that you're quick to learn when you become a "responsible" adult is that your game-buying habits regress to when you were a kid: You basically have to scam, beg, borrow, or otherwise simply wait for a holiday or birthday. On top of my Christmas wish list this year is New Super Mario Bros. Wii, a game that, if reviews are to be believed, could very well be the second coming of video game Christ.

Since I have to be patient just like my kids, I thought I'd give myself a little refresher on all that is Mario by starting from the beginning: Super Mario Bros. Little did I know that what was supposed to be a time-wasting exercise to pass the days until the new hotness arrived would turn into a deep appreciation for what Nintendo accomplished, and that I can, in fact, fearlessly use the word classic when describing a video game without a hint of derision.

I didn't realize that, considering its status as a landmark in the gaming world, we all make subliminal comparisons to Super Mario Bros. when playing other titles because it was the first one to feel right. Even after 25 years, jumping our pudgy protagonist across bottomless pits gives a sense of euphoria nearly each and every time he clears one.

Although it's in vogue to talk physics and other such terms, it's OK to simply say that SMB gives you the complete control you didn't realize you wanted. Don't just saunter up to that flag pole -- run. What you can and can't do in the Mushroom Kingdom is almost perfectly prescribed. The difficulty curve is also distinctly fair: I think SMB created the paradigm shift that moved this medium away from trying to milk every last quarter to providing an actual experience that we could take something from, beyond empty pockets.

I now realize I've been playing the game wrong all these years. Back when I first got my hands on that unergonomic control pad, my goal was to get to the end of the game as quickly as possible, for fear that my play time would be snatched away from me so that my pop could jump the controller for a while.

Obviously, Shigeru Miyamoto foresaw this plight, which is why he added the warp zone. And while I won't mock anyone for using those cheater pipes, I found that I enjoyed the game more when I played level to level; from 1-1 all the way to 8-4. The pacing is brilliant. You quickly go from understanding what's going on to eventually mastering and then exploiting what you've learned. Just when you think you're ahead of the game, the next level will nonchalantly put forth a challenge that tests your ability every single time.

The game has a certain mystique -- as you discover a breadcrumb trail of secrets, you get the idea that the developers are two steps ahead of you. I learned to take advantage of the system from my mother, of all things. She showed my brother and I how to climb to the roof of level 1-2 and coast all the way to either the end or the aforementioned warp zone, blowing my mind and making me feel invincible all at once.

That hidden block at the beginning of the game not only gives you an unexpected 1UP, but a burning desire to jump all the time in hope that you'll find something, anything to aid you in your quest to save Princess Toadstool. And don't even get me started on the minus world, which, although a glitch, suggests that anything could happen in the game.

But I think the real proof of SMB's success is the fact that I'm wowing my oldest son as he watches me play something three console generations removed from him. "Did you just...run across those gaps, Dad!?" "He's shooting fireballs and tossing hammers, there's just no way...oops, sorry, I was wrong." "Oma taught you that? No way!" Oh, but it gets better; my favorite quote from my kid by far has been: "So...can I play? I'll even be player two, because I like Luigi better anyways." Here we go, indeed.

I'm not a real games journalist, I just play one on the internet.  Check out my personal blog at The Question Block or follow me @MHMason.