Watching Dante’s Cove, the super-sudsy, super-gay, supernatural soap on DVD, reminded me of my adolescence. It was simpler times: porn came on VHS and dirty magazines were still relevant. But getting your hands on the good stuff was difficult, so you had to make do with what you could.

For me, it involved staying up super late and watching HBO, waiting for the tell-tale warning that the movie to follow featured the winning triumvirate of profanity, nudity, and sexual situations. A particular favorite was Tales From the Crypt, which aside from being a cool and creepy series, was always sure to show some sex just because it could. I’m fairly certain an episode about voodoo or something awakened my homosexuality, based on the number of times I rewound a scene where you could just almost see some guy’s junk.

If you had Showtime instead of HBO, perhaps it was a naked David Duchovny in Red Shoe Diaries. Or anything starring Shannon Tweed. And if you’re a girl, it was probably reading a Harlequin book about a shirtless guy standing in a field of wildflowers holding a baby or something.

But in the age of instant access to Xtube, do we really need softcore porn on cable? Dante’s Cove‘s plot, dialog and actors are all so woefully incompetent that I laughed out loud several times. It’s not even so bad it’s good; it’s just bad. That’s a lot of work for some softcore action when hardcore is just a click away. But just when I would get ready to turn it off, two hot naked men would be writhing around in bed or on the beach or in a lighthouse (I don’t remember why), and I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. In my pants.