Impulse Buy

Okay, the pastor this week was talking about getting away from consumerism, and he proposed we all track our spending. Spending diaries are also recommended by the likes of Dave Ramsey, who possesses the annoying combination of giving advice that's hard to follow and hard to dispute.

Times past, when I've attempted spending journals, I think of impulse purchases I'e been holding off on because I know they're stupid, and I follow the impulses. Not always, but often enough.

It's like an addict wanting one more hit before he cleans up, the thought that I just want to buy this batch of model rocket parts, or homebrew ingredients and equipment, or clothing, booze, fast food or whatever.

So I turn a tool that's supposed to make me look harder at my spending habits and I turn it into its opposite. More than once, anyway.

I'll quit smoking tomorrow, but tonight I just need one more cigarette. Besides, I don't smoke that much and I really enjoy smoking. I haven't smoked for over a dozen years, but I sure remember that whole shuck & jive.

So anyway, I'm keeping track, so far so good. But part of the keeping track is to categorize your purchases: need versus want. Reverend Dan went on to encourage us to show our list to an accountability partner, someone who'd call us on our delusions.

Dude, do you really believe a case of beer and a foam cowboy hat are 'just the necessities?' I think to myself, picturing the scene from Dumb & Dumber and thinking how closely I've resembled that scene in my own life.



So far, I've bought an Aerobed, $150.52 that falls neatly in the necessary column, and is much cheaper than the conventional mattresses I pondered. Or the Sleep Number bed I'd really prefer.

Then there was $39.52 for gasoline, pretty necessary.

Then there was this hat. True, I've wanted something like it for awhile, or really, something like it but more expensive, a Russian Ranger Hat. And when it's cold and windy (and it has been quite a bit this winter, despite the Goracle's end-time preaching), my shaved head and bare ears cry out for mercy. And at $30.50 including tax, it's probably $30 less than the ranger hat would be once I had it shipped. But still, this is a want.




I picked a green one because it'll do double duty if I decide to go as Ignatius Reilly for Halloween....

And is this not the best opening paragraph a novel could own?

A green hunting cap squeezed the top of the fleshy balloon of a head. The green earflaps, full of large ears and uncut hair and the fine bristles that grew in the ears themselvse, stuck out on either side like turn signals indicating two directions at once. Full, pursed lips protruded beneath the bushy black moustache and, at their corners, sank into little folds filled with disapproval and potato chip crumbs. In the shadow under the green visor of the cap Ignatius J. Reilly's supercilious blue and yellow eyes looked down upon the other people waiting under the clock at the D.H. Holmes department store, studying the crowd of people for signs of bad taste in dress. Several of the outfits, Ignatius noticed, were new enough and expensive enough to be properly considered offenses against taste and decency. Possession of anything new or expensive only reflected a person's lack of theology and geometry; it could even cast doubts upon one's soul.

— John Kennedy Toole, "Confederacy of Dunces"

I was taking the offending air mattress back to Bass Pro, and I guess getting a refund on the shoddy product made me feel like I wasn't spending money if I bought the hat. I was, after all, leaving the store with more money than I walked in with. Just not if I include the visit over the weekend that brought me the unsatisfactory bed.