In the early 60's when I was a kid, I remember hearing my parents talk to their parents about the colored lard they used during WWII. Butter wasn't available. It sounded and felt like they were talking about ancient Greek history, not something that happened less than 20 years before the conversation.
Now, when I talk to my kids about my childhood, they feel the same way. Memories of gas wars (price drop from 33 cents to 17 cents/gal), drive-in movie dates, the appearance of FM radios in cars, boxes of 8-track tapes in the middle of the front bench seat, seem like easily recallable memories but make me sound like Plato's drinking buddy.
Steamed windows, a favorite memory of living in the South, probably still happen but not to an annual showing of the ancient movie Gone with the Wind.