OK, it's official. I am a hillbilly throwback raised by Depression-era grandparents. I remember almost all of those things. None of us were much into electrical components and we didn't have a recorded-video entertainment system until VHS was getting old (but I do remember seeing Betamax movies at the video rental joint). I am 37 years old.
Not only do I remember wringer washers, I remember how to use one. Until I was about 8, Grandma pulled the clothes out of the washer and fed them through the wringer, and my job was to catch them on the other side, stir them around in the first tub of rinse water, and move them into the second tub. Then Grandma would shove the washer out of the way while I got the clothesbasket, and she would feed them back through the wringer, and then we'd hang them out on the line.
Generally talking about stuff while we did it.
Then my grandfather's sister died, and we got her "regular" washing machine. I cried.
I remember the summer Saint Alan decided he was sick of getting 3 channels, all fuzzy (antenna on top of the house). He was going to put an antenna on top of the hill (about a mile and a half away). Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately), a mile and a half of cable and the local wildlife didn't make a very good combination. He got fed up and bought a 10-foot satellite dish.
Something else modern kids don't remember. The picture quality degenerated, but it ACTUALLY GOT RECEPTION IN THE RAIN. You had to tune it manually, ten degrees at a time. If you went really slowly, you could pick up information off NASA satellites and unscrambled government broadcasts and all kinds of interesting stuff that definitely wasn't listed in OnSat.
I've looked high and low for an Erector Set for my DS8. No luck. He does have Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs, and Legos though. Remember when Legos came in a big box, and you didn't have to buy some ridiculously overpriced licensed theme set to get the "cool pieces"??? Tinker Toys are bigger now, but they still suck.
_________________
"Alas, our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass, or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar." --TS Eliot, "The Hollow Men"