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Blade photo by Henry Linser
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HOME > OUT IN DC > QUEERY
COMMENTS
 
If you’ve picked up the Blade during the last three years, chances are you’ve encountered Greg Marzullo’s byline. From hard news stories to Liza Minnelli profiles to an infamous how-to piece on sandwich making, he’s covered it all as a reporter and, more recently, as the paper’s features editor. This is Greg’s last week at the Blade; he’s taking a drastic change in direction and pursuing a career as a yoga instructor. Marzullo was born in Stoughton, Mass., and attended Arizona State University where he earned a bachelor’s degree in English. He’s nearly obsessed with Martha Stewart and a foodie known to bring home 25 pounds of seasonal fruit for canning and, of course, pie baking. He lives with his partner, award-winning local actor Philip Fletcher, in Gaithersburg, Md. The couple wed in a commitment ceremony in 2006.
I’ve been out to myself since I was 15 (I’m now 31). The hardest people to tell were my parents. Although, deep down, I knew they would continue to love and support me, the fear was palpable.
Any queer person who dares to live an authentic life.
I’m a little long in the tooth for the club scene, but I do love going anywhere with good live entertainment — cabaret acts, theater, opera, etc. On the rare occasion I do go out, though, I’m surprised to say I really like Town, mostly because they’ve employed real entertainment with the drag shows and X-faction.
Most definitely. My hubby and I had a marriage ceremony in Maryland two years ago with about 120 guests. It was, by far, the happiest day of my life to date, and although I can’t benefit legally from marriage, celebrating our love with family and friends is truly what it’s all about. (Well, that and the ring.)
Anything ecological. As Al Gore has pointed out, our environmental crises are moral tests. I vacillate between great hope for change and great despair.
The proliferation of Judeo-Christian-Islamic “values.”
The creation of MTV. I vividly remember sitting with my step brother and watching Twisted Sister videos. It all felt so new and bizarre, yet terribly exciting.
I’d love to “make it work” on “Project Runway,” but I can’t even sew a button successfully. Next up would be “Top Chef,” and I do know how to make a mean soufflé.
Mercifully, all have been lost.
“Our Bodies are the Spell.” More than just a temple, I believe our bodies are one of the keys to our relationship with divinity.
Gather a group of queer radicals and destroy the laboratories in a shower of glitter and pink feathers.
More work.
I’d hope for my last meal to be sometime in high summer as I like to eat seasonally. So, in that case, let’s start with an antipasto of heirloom tomatoes, fresh, locally made mozzarella, and basil from my garden, drizzled with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. For the pasta course, we’ll do pasta fresca with peas, lemon zest and cream. Then perhaps a course of roasted spaghetti squash stuffed with a mushroom-tomato ragu. Oh, for god’s sake, the real question should be “Will there be a vomitorium available?”
An end to suffering for all beings.
The corporate capitalist, white gay man who is only concerned with acquiring more things.
“Shortbus” is not just a film — it’s my manifesto.
Web “friends.”
I would love to get the Nobel Peace Prize. Not because I think I have a shot in hell or that I’m actually striving for it, but because of the effect I would have to have on improving people’s lives in order to receive one.
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