Pulling the Right Strings on CityWalk

Tina Turner is just the opening act.

“Whaaat’s love got to do, got to do with it? Whaaat’s love, but a secondhand emotion.”

Jimi Hendrix is next, playing his Stratocaster with his teeth. David Byrne of Talking Heads takes the stage in his big white suit. Leonard Nimoy is, illogically, on drums. Finally, there’s Elvis himself, rising from a black Cadillac-cum-coffin. (Jimi and Elvis. Thank God the Righteous Brothers weren’t on hand to sing “Rock ‘n’ Roll Heaven.”)

This is Lee Zimmerman’s musical revue, and it comes with strings attached. Sometimes Elton John joins in, but he wasn’t there Sunday night at Universal CityWalk.

His business card identifies him as The Puppet Guy, and if you haven’t seen Zimmerman’s shtick by now, you might want to get out of the house more often. The last few years, Zimmerman has entertained passersby with his homemade marionette act at Venice Beach, Santa Monica’s Third Street Promenade and Old Pasadena, becoming one of L. A.’s best known street performers.

And if Zimmerman can’t make it at CityWalk--or if he gets run out of Universal City the way he was run out of Santa Monica and Old Pasadena--he’s afraid he’ll have to go home to Delaware.

Not just anybody can be a street performer at CityWalk. As spokesman Kim Reed explains, it may be a public venue, but it’s still private property. If you want to bring your guitar and imitate Bob Dylan, there’s a chance a security guard may tap you on the shoulder and suggest you audition first. “We’ve tried to get the cream of the crop,” Reed says.

On this night, visitors could catch The Puppet Guy as well as such acts as Belle Air Brass, an all-female horn ensemble, and The U. S. A. Gals, an a cappella group that does a lot of USO shows for the Department of Defense. To such groups, the modest per diem paid by CityWalk is very modest indeed.

To Zimmerman and other traditional street artists who are accustomed to passing the hat, the $25 is a nice bonus. Several performers who helped make Third Street Promenade such a hopping place the last two summers are now coming up the hill to CityWalk.

“We’re all defecting,” The Puppet Guy says, grinning.

To hear Zimmerman talk, he’s found street-performer heaven. The heavy tourist traffic ensures that he won’t see the same familiar faces. He judges the financial status of the audience by the shoes they wear--and the CityWalk crowd, he says, is shod almost as nicely as the folks in Old Pasadena.

But what Zimmerman likes most about CityWalk is that it’s an imitation of a street, not a real one. CityWalk appeals to Zimmerman not only because of the people who are here, but the ones who aren’t. Unlike Venice, Santa Monica or Old Pasadena, CityWalk offers no panhandlers, no symptoms of homelessness, hunger or drug addiction. And The Puppet Guy has yet to encounter any troublemakers such as the bureaucrats of Santa Monica and street punks of Pasadena.

Not real life, but a surreal simulation.

Universal provides its own security force, and a Sheriff’s Department substation is on the premises. “In terms of security, you can’t beat this place,” Zimmerman says. “That’s very important to me.”

It’s sad, really, that The Puppet Guy would have to talk this way. You’d think L. A. would be kinder to its minstrels.

In Santa Monica, it was the City Council who did Zimmerman in. Third Street Promenade got so popular and noisy that an ordinance was adopted two summers ago banning acts with amplifiers. Zimmerman’s marionettes lip sync to a cassette recorder, but the volume has to be turned low enough to allow the audience to hear the puppeteer’s banter. Even so, he had to hit the road.

Old Pasadena was another matter.

At first, The Puppet Guy says, it was all a street performer could ask for. But about four months ago, a teen-age girl stepped on one of his fragile marionettes. “I asked her to please be careful. I was very polite. I’m always polite,” Zimmerman insists.

But tempers flared and Zimmerman, who is white, says he became the target of menacing racial slurs and threats delivered by a group of black teen-agers. The oldest was maybe 15 years old. One girl kicked a friend of Zimmerman, and before long police arrived. Now The Puppet Guy figures Old Pasadena isn’t safe, at least not for him.

His memories of Old Pasadena shouldn’t seem so shocking. Los Angeles has a habit of overdoing a good thing. Once Westwood was the trendiest spot in L. A. That started changing after one night in 1988 when a young woman named Karen Toshima was killed by a stray bullet from a gang encounter.

The Puppet Guy had heard about the Westwood slaying, but he didn’t remember the trouble Universal City had that summer night two years ago at the opening of “Boyz N the Hood” when five people were wounded by gunfire at the 18-screen Cineplex Odeon and the nearby garage. Presumably, some lessons were learned that night.

And so Kim Reed, the CityWalk spokesman, is ready for the inevitable questions.

“We’re not saying it’s 100% safe, but it’s about as safe as any place in the city. . . . We’re on guard . . .,” Reed says.

“Gang types, you know, aren’t persons who like to pay for parking.”

Scott Harris’ column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. Readers may write to him at The Times Valley edition, 20000 Prairie St., Chatsworth, Calif. 91311

His business card identifies him as The Puppet Guy, and if you haven’t seen Zimmerman’s shtick by now, you might want to get out of the house more often.