I'm not sure, I kind of like the community feeling that comes from sending in fossils, like that after a while these people must be looking forward to your next batch of fossils, eagerly awaiting to see what your town has to offer their starved archaeological tastes. The masses of dusty, thick-rimmed glasses atop forty year old males sitting huddled at their desks, slowly humming along to the workday, and then a loud whistle is heard. They slowly rise from the desk and head to the small cafeteria, lunchboxes in tow. Word spreads among the archaeologists; Central (my town) finally filled up their museum's fossil collection. Cheers of joy and stifled cries of sorrow erupt, the joy from hearing the good news, the sorrow because they fear you won't send any more fossils to them.
The next day, tears are falling from their eyes as they receive the three precious fossils in the mail. Twelve, wonderful Twelve, the person who cares enough about them to still send fossils, is still a distant friend. Even though his museum is full, the fossils keep coming.
The fossils keep coming.
