Jolly Fellows Ain’t Funny

Back in the 1970s, I enjoyed lunch in an Australian outback restaurant with two guy friends and my best friend, Carol. We ate on the family-friendly side of the establishment, not in the pub which, even then, was primarily a male venue. Out of nowhere, a fight broke out and a man flew across the table directly beside ours. A product of the New Jersey suburbs, I was appalled. The guys continued eating, undisturbed. Fights happen. “What would you want them to do?” one asked. “Take it outside,” I insisted, “to an alley.” They laughed. “That would be stupid. There’s ...