No matter how you try to suppress it, the Bergsten Belly piggles and jiggles just below the waistline, spoiling the profile and making us - OK, some of us - look like old Uncle George, who was also begat by Martin and who was afflicted by the family problem even more grievously than was Elsie.
Of course, it takes two to tango, which brings us to the Newton Butt. It's called that because it came upon us through the Newton side of the family, but it ought really be called the Sears Butt, since Nana Newton, its most prominent - if you will - victim, was a Sears. So Miles began Otis, who begat Violet (that's Nana N), who begat Everett, who along with Arline of Bergsten begat the rest of us, again with the possible exception of Steve. The Newton Butt in its most pristine form protrudes rearward from the hips like a permanently hitched U-Haul trailer. You could store all your junk handily in the trunk.
Kathy, of course, complains of having the deadly combination of both Bergsten Belly and Newton Butt. Donna, on the other hand, hasn't raised the issue, and the rest of us see no profit in inquiring. She dresses well, so who knows what goes on there. As for Kathy, I take her at her word and shut up (until - God help me - now). Steve, the apparent spawn of a different gene pool, is built like a stick, and the rest of us secretly hate him.
The point of this anatomical exploration is the tragic imbalance that arises if, like your humble reporter, you lack the Newton Butt but instead have two Bergsten Bellies. Keep in mind the function of Bergsten-Newton syndrome is to provide a couple of cushy hooks to hang your belt on, thereby reliably holding your pants up. As I age and my personal condition approaches perigee, I find that the Bergsten Belly functions admirably to support the front of my jeans. The deficient butt, however, doesn't hold up its end - if you will - of the bargain. That's right - the Bergsten Belly, in the absence of the Newton Butt, causes posterior droopy drawer syndrome, which in its final stages begets Plumber's Crack.
Maybe I'll get me some of those swell padded skivvies I see advertised in the back of certain magazines. Or implants - yeah, that's the ticket.
PS: That bit at the beginning about Kathy being my "older sister" should not be confused with a claim that she is older than I, because she may not be. Our relative ages are of no significance. What matters is that, of my two sisters, Kathy is my older sister.