The '90s trend we need: an affordable place to live

In the mid-1990s, I lived in a house with three other guys.

- EDWARD KEENAN

It was like a grunge-era Animal House: we had a bong on the coffee table, cigarette lighters suspended from the ceilings by telephone cord and a fourtrack recording studio in the basement. Our gregarious traditional Greek landlord once suggested we “try to get some women around” because of our laid-back approach to housekeeping.

I’m suddenly reminded of those times by the pervasive 1990s nostalgia in the air: the Star has been running stories looking back at the way Toronto and pop culture were back then this week, suddenly we learn the Gallagher brothers are getting Oasis back together for a tour (where patrons will no doubt bet on whether they’ll get to see an encore or brawl onstage), and my inbox is full of previews of stuff happening to mark the 30th anniversary of the show “Friends” in a few weeks.

It was in that house with my roommates that I watched episodes of the first run of “Friends.” And we, like everyone else, often remarked on one of the great mysteries of the show: how Rachel and Monica could afford their apartment in Manhattan on the salaries of a barista and a waitress. The title song said “your life’s a joke, you’re broke,” but those women lived in a vast space with a giant balcony near Central Park.

To us slackers watching from my house, it sure looked like things were going OK for them.