You know you're middle aged when a thing that was new to you as a teenager shows up in a museum, or as an artefact deserving "historic preservation." I will never forget coming around a corner in Berlin's DDR museum and seeing a whole bunch of wide-eyed teenagers gazing at one display; it turned out that they were all looking at a manual typewriter.
I had the same reaction when I was in Portland in October, and stumbled on one of the original Portland Mall shelters. These were built in 1978, and their woozy mushroominess made perfect sense in the 70s idiom. (Compare, for example, rockstar hair from that decade.)