"Who would want to take pictures of ugly children?" "The UCTA, that's who!"

Confession: my younger brother and I were smart kids. I'm not bragging or anything; we just were. Some kids were good at sports, others were great musicians. Bret and I were smart. We imagined elaborate story-lines when playing Barbies and action figures (a clever boy-girl compromise) and thought up, and in one case typed up, complex rules for our own games.

What I share with you today is one of the glowing moments of growing up with my little brother: the Ugly Child Talent Agency, or UCTA (which can be spelled out or pronounced "ook-tuh", with the double "o" like in cook and a bit of a guttural sound on the "k"). The creation, or rather realization of the existence of, this infamous agency was on this wise: I'm not exactly sure how old we were at the time; my sister posits that she was about five, which would put Bret and myself at 8 and 10, respectively. Bret could not remember, and so fell back on case law lingo: "since time immemorial". Anyhow, my brother and I were discussing one day the proliferation of ugly children in movies. Think about it. "Mary Poppins", "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang", "Bedknobs and Broomsticks". All ugly children. (Also all British children. We believe the UCTA specializes in the representation of British children, though they are by no means the whole of their agency.)

It occurred to us that perhaps there was an agency of sorts that set these....aesthetically challenged children up with lucrative film roles. How else would children such as these make their way into such potentially endearing parts? The UCTA is the only solution. Throughout the years, whenever Bret or I see a less than attractive child featured in film or television, we feel compelled to remark to one another, "Looks like the UCTA is hard at work in this film". And so it is.

So here's to you, UCTA, and your continual promotion of the children that the world has looked over.