L.B., as in lively bash

ON the wide sidewalk in front of a bookstore called Open, Danial Nord stood grinning merrily at his creation: a set of six small, potted boxwood shrubs, from each of which emanates the loud, clear voice of one member of the United States' first family, the Bushes. "I'm the decider," says George W. "Our family term of endearment is Bushie! Bushie! Bushie!" say the twins. "We must pray ... for our prophet," says Jeb.

The plants made up one of more than 40 art pieces in the third SoundWalk, a once-a-year event on a recent Saturday in Long Beach's emerging East Village Arts District. A steady flow of patrons up and down Linden Avenue stopped and listened, many of them cracking big smiles at the meditation on the recognizability of a whole family of famous voices.

"I came down here for last year's SoundWalk, and I've always found this community to be so open and inclusive. I thought, 'I want to do one of these,' " Nord says.

Though SoundWalk may be one of Long Beach's most unusual art nights, it's hardly the only one, as monthly events and more highlight the eclectic and even eccentric feel of the galleries, restaurants and boutiques that have moved into the area. And it's only a small slice of the big changes that have come to downtown Long Beach: Four or five blocks to the west, as the hour gets late on Pine Avenue, thousands of revelers, club-goers and cruisers clog the streets -- so many that the city is experimenting with closing it off as a pedestrian zone on some weekend nights. Partyers make a loop from the new waterfront mall called the Pike at Rainbow Harbor, up the hill past the Convention Center, and wedge into the crush of people in restaurants such as the Rock Bottom Brewery, the Latin-dance houses of Alegria, Mariposa and Cafe Sevilla, and George's Greek Cafe with its belly dancers.

On the strip, a carnival atmosphere reigns, part Hollywood, part port of call. A world removed from the more sophisticated East Village, young women roam in packs sporting their tightest jeans and most daring skirts. Men wait outside the clubs in everything from Boss suits to Raiders jerseys. A few limos cut through the cacophony of bass booming from slow-moving cars, but overall this is a pretty nonexclusive affair. In Long Beach, you don't have to be a somebody to get your party on.

"It's not too full of itself, because it's used to being a bit of an underdog," Nord says of the downtown in general. A resident of nearby San Pedro, he likes the vitality. "It's really its own place."