The Mysteries of Pittsburgh

by Michael Chabon

Nowhere around me was there anything to remind me of the year—no new cars, no rock-and-roll music; only sky, red brick, cracked pavement, a breeze—and I underwent

This novel seemed almost purposefully vague about a time... the only hint I got was a reference to an answering machine. This quote jumped out at me, and made me thing that perhaps Chabon was obscuring place in time on purpose.