There are some things one simply must have. Sometimes this doesn’t become evident until that object is spotted, like that Tony Danza PEZ Dispenser sitting proudly on your mantel. No need to stash your candy-spewing Danza effigy in embarrassment, though, because your Mountain Times staff owns many similar curios. Carved wooden statuette of Sancho Panza aside, here are some of our favorite impulse buys.

Mark Mitchell: Spending Money to a Different Tune

Even though he was supposedly reborn, Orion’s latest album did not lead to a Mark Mitchell impulse buy.

One thing jumps to the forefront when it comes to impulse purchases for me ... music. I hardly ever plan to buy a CD. Sure, I have a few groups that I am always on the lookout for, but they are few and far between. Instead, the scenario usually goes something like this. I am walking the aisles in search of toothpaste, Powerbars or some other necessity, when I cast a glance at the audio/video section and think, “I’m bored with all my music.”

From there, it’s usually a question of “what will I buy” instead of “will I buy.” You see, once musical boredom knocks on the door, you have to answer. Maybe an old greatest hits CD will suffice, or sometimes I’m lucky and a new CD will spark my interest. Either way, action must be taken.

Jeff Eason: Inline Roller Skates or An Impulse Buy Nearly Kills Me

Can you spot Jeff Eason in this photo? No, you can’t.

About 10 years ago, I visited a used sporting goods store in Chapel Hill called Play It Again Sports. There, on a whim, I purchased a pair of inline skates, the kind commonly called Rollerblades. In my youth, I had been a fairly decent roller skater and had some ice-skating experience from the frozen ponds of Michigan and at the Polar Palace in Boone (where the Wellness Center is now located).

I thought learning to inline skate would be a natural progression from those activities and took my new pair of skates to the Greenway Trail in Boone to test them out. To fully appreciate my technique, you would have to imagine a giraffe trying to dance in a puddle of Italian salad dressing. About two dozen crashes and many bruises and abrasions later, I decided that I had had enough. Even with kneepads, it felt like someone had tried to adjust my kneecaps with a tire iron and there was a blood blister on one elbow that looked like a small red balloon.

That was the one and only time I ever used those skates. I’m just glad that $10 purchase didn’t end up killing me.

Caroline Monday: Typing “Impulse”

“This is my typewriter!”

Generally, my impulse buys are made while waiting in line at the register, which I guess is why they put all that stuff there. I’ve bought many a magazine, miniature lint roller and pocket-sized bottle of hand disinfectant as a result of spending too much time waiting in line.

None of those purchases was especially memorable, though they continue to clutter the junk drawer in my kitchen. The impulse buys I actually remember are much fewer in number. One such buy is my blue, manual Smith Corona typewriter, procured for $45 at Father and Son Antiques in Raleigh.

In retrospect, I had always wanted a vintage manual typewriter, I just never knew it until I laid eyes on this beauty. And I think that’s what a true impulse buy is all about. You don’t go looking for it, but when you do find it your heart takes over and you reach for your wallet.

Someone once told me that most of the decisions we make are based 75 percent on emotion and the rest is rationalizations we use to justify those emotion-based decisions. Sometimes this doesn’t work out so well in the long run. Example: the industrial strength sewing machine I bought on eBay and still don’t know how to use.

In the case of the blue Corona Smith, however, following my heart was the right thing to do. It sits on my coffee table and I use it to write letters and to entertain the cats (the typing sound drives them crazy!). When friends come over it serves as something of a guest book, as they too are drawn to it and leave me funny little messages.

Melanie Davis: Even Cowgirls Get the [Teals]

These boots are made for Walken. Christopher Walken. But they were the wrong size.

The greatest aspect of impulse shopping is the tendency to buy something completely outrageous and/or useless. My favorite impulse buy is a pair of teal cowboy boots I found on clearance for less than $5.

I am by no means a cowgirl, nor do I own much teal clothing. In fact, I have no explanation for the teal boots, which, by the way, have crocheted trim. All I can offer is that I wanted cowgirl boots as a child, and it only took 25 years for me to find the right pair.
This is all fine and fun, but it leads to one problem with impulse shopping. I had to buy something to match these outrageous boots. One impulse buy turned into a shopping trip. I started with $3 boots. I ended with an additional $20 sweater.

The reason this is my favorite impulse buy is the fact that, for once, it didn’t turn out to be a complete waste of money. I have worn the boots several times, making them well worth it, and who doesn’t love a comfortable sweater (even if it is teal).

Frank Ruggiero: Dressed for Success (or Fried Chicken)

“Why does the newspaper man want to dress like us, Monsieur Roarke?” “Why else, Tattoo? It is his fantasy.”

Since most of your Mountain Times staff lives and works in Watauga County, every now and then we’ll pay a visit to the local Goodwill Store. Rather than plaid trousers, I set my eyes on the store’s LP record selection, seeking the occasional diamond in a mine packed with Barbra Streisand slag.

This time, however, it wasn’t a record that sang to me. Hanging delicately on the men’s formal rack, swaying never-so-slightly (yes, never-so-slightly) in the air-conditioned breeze, was a three-piece white suit. A gentle sea breeze caressed my nostrils, and I moved away from the stack of air fresheners to pursue this glistening mirage. Upon further examination, the suit seemed close enough to my size, though it offered plenty of grow room, should I ever experience a freakish growth spurt or join Farmer Glutton’s Biscuit & Gravy of the Month Club.

Five minutes later, the suit was mine, along with some wretched record that looked good because it had a cocker spaniel in a sombrero on the front. Preparing to look like a mustachioed Ricardo Montalban from “Fantasy Island,” I rushed home and tried on the suit. I looked more like a giant Herve Villechaize wearing very long pants. In fact, the suit looked more like a mutation of Col. Sanders’ and Huggy Bear’s combined wardrobes.

“It’s nothing a tailor can’t fix,” I reassured myself as I placed the suit in my closet, next to my toga and dinosaur costume. “And this is something that will come in handy later.”