I grew up with the tick-tick-tick and ever so faintly bruised forefinger of using a dial-face telephone.
When I was 8 my Dad gave in to me asking to learn to use the record player. He threatened me with the wrath of God if I harmed the diamond chip stylus, or scratched up the records. He showed me how to handle the rcords on teh edge, delicately lower the stylus down, and up, and how to use the soft brush dust wiper while the records were on the turn-table. After he had determined I could handle it all without scratching stuff up, he let me loose on his Rolling Stones, Supertramp, The Beatles, The Band, and Joan Sutherland opera collections.
When I was little we got out first colour TV. We hung onto it forever, and only ever had the one TV in the lounge room. No TVs in bedrooms or the kitchen for us. It was about the size my alarm clock face is today. Everyone finally got a new TV when my parents divorced while I was up at uni.