I have no great need for trinkets, doo-dads, knick-knacks, tchotchkes, or any other breed of small object whose sole purpose is to occupy a small space in my home. And over the last ten years or so, I've divested myself of one collection after another, from Star Wars figures to childhood drawings to my impending sell-off of those tubs full of compact discs in my basement. Once I started a cycle of periodic moves, the charm of keeping a bunch of stuff was negated by the weight of it all.
The one exception is the little bits of natural history I've collected - cool river rocks, crinoid stems, shells, and the like. Whenever I run across a piece of well-done dinosaur kitsch, I'll snap it up. Something like this.
Photo by Neato Coolville, via flickr
Or like this dude I picked up last year, for less than a dollar:
He doesn't have any markings to indicate his origin, but it doesn't have any deleterious effect on his role as the silent sentinel watching over my fossil collection.
I don't usually actively pursue new bits of dino-kitsch, but I'm sorely tempted by the Hagen Renaker collection of dinosaurs. Real estate is dear, and if a few square inches need to be occupied, it may as well be a well-chosen fossil or piece of mesozoic memorabilia.