Philadelphia Weekly

One October morning in 1999, a month before the general mayoral election, Malcolm Lazin picked up a copy of the Philadelphia Gay News and something snapped. Lazin, the co-chair of Gays and Lesbians for Sam Katz and executive director of PrideFest America, sat down, composed an email and sent it to six other people associated with the Katz campaign:

"Folks--I am totally outraged at this week's PGN. No coverage of our Prince event despite the fact that Kirk, I and others spoke to PGN about covering it. No mention of our last press release about Operation 'E' Day. A big picture of John Street on page 3 at Mark's house. No mention of Liberty City not endorsing Street, even with the Mayor and DNC Chair asking for support from Street. Picture on page 7 of Street being given a tour of the William Way Community Center led by Claire Baker. And huge headline in the Letters section, 'Why I'm Voting for Street.' The only thing that was missing was an editorial cartoon with a naked Mark Segal being penetrated by John Street with Patti Tihey on all fours sucking Mark's genitalia while Fran Rafferty watched and observed, 'Mark, you fuckin' faggot.' Now that's what I call obscene.

"Am I pissed. You bet I am. PGN has lowered itself to nothing more than whatever suits Mark Segal's prostituted ego. I'm about to puke. The 'Emperor' has publicly demonstrated that he is both without clothes and pride."

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One recent morning, Mark Segal, the 50-year-old publisher of the Philadelphia Gay News (which he likes to call "the New York Times of the gay press"), has his assistant call to set up a lunch appointment at Famous 4th Street Deli which, along with The Palm, is where Segal likes to conduct business. His business on this particular day is to hand over the below statement, typed in six neat lines on plain white paper, and to explain that from now on, this is all he will say about Malcolm Lazin for the record:

"Any relationship with Malcolm Lazin ended the day he sent out his infamous and sexually explicit mass email, which was a complete surprise to me since up to that point and I believe to this date I have obtained more funds for PrideFest than any other individual. His email was hateful and hurtful. It is inconceivable that he would treat someone who has supported his efforts with such disregard and contempt."

You have to understand, Segal says, slathering Russian dressing across his turkey special, that Lazin's infamous email was so painful that it took a half hour just to conjure those six lines.

Part of that pain probably comes from the memory of what happened during Milton Shapp's tenure as governor back in the '70s, when a couple of anti-gay state representatives passed around--on the floor of the Legislature, no less--a crude cartoon of Segal and Shapp having sex. Lazin, to be fair, probably didn't know about that at the time he wrote his infamous and sexually explicit mass email, but then again, that is hardly an excuse. Segal says he will not meet with Malcolm Lazin. Ever.

"My community," Segal says between fielding kisses from Famous Deli waitstaff and fellow patrons, "is tired of this sensationalism."

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Malcolm Lazin, who likes to call PrideFest America "the largest collaborative effort of gay and lesbian organizations in the world," has an assistant named Jessica who calls with a date and time when her boss will be available. On a recent evening--right after Madonna's second concert--Lazin, who attended the performance, arrives at the Tank Bar dressed in plaid and khakis, dyed hair carefully coifed.

Lazin, 57, speaks with a measured restraint that belies his impulsive nature. To look at him, you'd never think him capable of sending a sexually explicit mass email--especially one that mentions, in the same breath, Mark Segal, PGN editor Patti Tihey, Mayor John Street and erstwhile Councilman Fran Rafferty.

Lazin, a lawyer, has no problem speaking on the record. "I don't think [Mark Segal] has any influence with Street," he says. "And if one wants to perceive oneself as being the leader, certainly anything that undermines that perception would be a concern to that individual. And consequently, if one's goal is to be perceived as the leader, then one will do whatever is necessary to achieve that goal."

Lazin, spearing a forkful of fish, says he'd be more than happy to sit down with Segal and resolve differences, "but apparently I'm not one of his favorite people. For whatever reason, I'm not quite sure."

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You just might know who Malcolm Lazin and Mark Segal are--even if you're straight, even if you're apolitical. You might know who they are because the media--the straight media--has cultivated both as spokespeople for the gay community. But talk to enough gay Philadelphians, and they'll say assuming either Lazin or Segal speaks for the entire gay community is like assuming NAACP president Jerry Mondesire speaks for the entire black community. People are as likely to roll their eyes at either's self-serving proclamations as they are to agree with them.

You also might know who Lazin and Segal are because, as the perceived alpha males of their community, they have made it their business to be known. And while there are numerous leaders within the city's gay population who toil on a grassroots level in relative obscurity, Lazin and Segal, to a large extent, deserve much of the recognition they both relentlessly court.

While likening PGN to the New York Times may be a stretch of near epic proportions, Segal's newspaper has been around for 25 years. His column, "Mark My Words," details the publisher's early days as an activist as often as it takes on current political dustups. If you follow the column at all, you may have read about Segal seeing a photograph of himself at age 18 (which, he tells us, his partner Tony Lombardo thinks is "cute") in New York's Stonewall bar, renowned as the birthplace of the modern gay rights movement.

"I was the youngest member of the Gay Liberation Front in New York," Segal says. "And we had a 25th anniversary celebration, which PBS filmed. And I started the first organization for gay youth in the country called Gay Youth, which, by the way, now is the oldest existing gay and lesbian organization in the city of New York. About two years ago, they gave me an award for that, which was kind of neat."