©2021 Michael Raven
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In the 80s, there was a scrambled broadcast network — channel 23, locally — which required a “black box” to unscramble. “After Hours” was adult movies, which you could look at and squint and maybe use a toe on the rabbit ears to improve the image, but it was basically watching dirty movies with no sound through folded vinyl sheets. Most of the boys I knew considered it a personal challenge to get the best picture possible. It was the 80s equivalent of the sites kids sneak onto today — except with decidedly worse quality than anyone has to deal with now. The station was “Spectrum Entertainment” or something along those lines. That is the basis for this piece. Mostly.