My wife was talking the other day about generational memory. About how her parents were 10-15 years younger than mine had been, even though she and I were the same age.
My dad was born in 1932. He stood in line with ration tickets for WW2 and was drafted at the end of Korea. He wore brown shoes in the army not black and his music was all from the late 1940s and early to mid 50s.
So my memories are colored by that. My wife can remember her mom wearing miniskirts and long hair, and her folks listening to 70s music. By the time the 70s came around, my parents were having their last baby not their first and they'd both stopped listening to pop music.
It's the difference between Mogen David concord wine, which my folks thought was the height of class, and wine in a box, which was BA's mom's wine of choice. Old English cheese spread. My dad loved it on celery. All of our juice glasses are made from the jars. We ate it at New Year's on saltines with pickles. BA's mom and dad both like block cheese cut up with grapes and maybe crackers on the side. My mom thought TV dinners rocked. I've never seen BA's folks eat one.
Every so often someone will tell me I'm old fashioned, even for someone my age. And I smile and nod and say yep. It's a family thing.