In the early 1970’s I worked at The Art Colony, an art supply and picture-framing store on Westward Drive. Back then I fancied myself a sort of artist and I got discounts on oil paints, brushes, and different sizes of the pre-stretched canvas we made on site. The place smelled great. They had clay and water color supplies but I never messed with that stuff because I felt those materials were inferior to oil painting. Oils were good enough for the Old Masters so they were good enough for me. Even at 15 years old I didn’t like anything new.
Motorcycle vandalism was a problem at our school. Any nice-looking bike would be attacked in the school’s parking area. You’d get your seat cut or a bunch of rocks in your gas tank if the vandals were in a good mood. If they were in a bad mood your chain might be welded solid (the motorcycle parking area was next to the metal shop, a tactical error on the school administration’s part) or sugar poured in your tank. At the time I was riding a sweet, red Honda SL70, fully street legal and had a learner’s permit to ride in the daylight hours. I never took the bike to school. I’d ride to Carlson’s house, leave the SL70 there and walk to school.
After school I’d ride to The Art Colony and work a few hours until they closed. I earned fifteen or eighteen dollars a week, which was plenty to keep the SL70 in gas and tires. At least until Wilson got a Bell Star helmet. Damn, that helmet was cool. The rest of us had open face, jet-style lids that either slid back on our head and tried to choke us or pushed down onto our nose blocking most of the road. It was probably a fitment issue but we used whatever helmet no one else wanted. Buying a helmet was an unknown concept.
Wilson’s Bell Star fit his head and had a flip down visor that was great for riding in the rain. It rained a lot in Florida. Naturally, everyone started getting Bell Star helmets and whoever bought one became instantly cool. I had to have one. Murray Auto, in Hialeah had the best price on Bell Helmets: Fifty-one dollars out the door. This was a huge sum of money back when you could buy a running Japanese motorcycle for thirty-five bucks. Regardless, I had to have one. I wanted to be cool, too.
I beavered away at The Art Colony making frames, stretching canvas and skimped on everything I could. It took about two months before I saved enough to buy a Bell. Since I was working and couldn’t get to Murray’s during business hours I handed the money to Wilson for the helmet (he had an XL70 which was nearly the same motorcycle as an SL70) and he went to Murray’s to get the lid.
He brought the helmet back to the Art shop and when we opened the box the thing positively glowed. The paint was flawless, the interior was made of an exotic brushed rayon material. It was so clean. It was like the Playboy Mansion inside. Sliding the Bell onto my head was like entering another world. The intimate view from the Star’s porthole framed a world that had changed. I felt invincible wearing that helmet. I could batter down doors, go into space or ride through the worst rainstorm safe and dry inside. If you didn’t count the rest of my body.
Bell Helmets as I knew them went out of business. I don’t know what happened. I heard lawsuits killed them off. Another company bought the name and started making all sorts of Bell-branded stuff. Mostly for bicycles. You can still buy Bell-branded helmets, they even have a cool Star Classic model.
As for me, I’m back to wearing hand me downs or freebie helmets. I got a good deal on a twenty-five dollar no-brand helmet at Pep Boys. I feel my head is worth less and less with each passing day. Back when I was 15 I had my whole life ahead of me, a quality helmet was a good investment. Now, even with inflation-adjusted money I’ll probably never spend what that old Bell Star cost on another helmet.