The Real Story
Welcome to the site of the real-life Pennie Lane. Yes, she does exist! She walks among us. You might pass her on a street, in a store, or while riding your bike. You might catch her eye in a crowded restaurant, in an art gallery, or more likely, in a small club listening to a hot but unknown band. How would you know if it was her?
The fact is, you wouldn’t. Pennie Lane is, and has always been, very careful about that. She believes that her personal life is, well, personal. She never believed in selling her memoirs, although she has been asked. She just doesn’t kiss and tell!
It is a fascinating story about a woman who never planned to tell it. In the end, she didn’t have to, for someone else did. Sometimes life takes some unexpected turns, and opportunities present themselves in the most unusual ways. Pennie Lane understands this. She believes in destiny.
Although she met and loved men who were rock legends, her motivation for meeting them was not marriage, money or personal gain. She simply did it because their music touched her in ways that nothing else could. Her motivation was pure and it was simple. Perhaps because of that reason, she was able to meet and connect with the men she so admired.
“Rock Stars? I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention.”
As she watched musicians living their dream, she realized that anything was possible. She also knew how seductive the lifestyle could be, so she carefully created a personal time line. She allowed herself three years…the time between her junior year in high school (17) until she started college (20) to live, tour and get to know musicians.Maybe it was protective intuition, but she never could tune out a tiny voice in her head that kept warning her…”this isn’t real”. Yet she allowed herself the jet set luxury and took the risk. Sometimes she had to hold onto her heart with both hands…but in the end, she knew that it was the right thing to do. (And for you film buffs, there were no drug overdoses!)
Pennie Lane knew, however, that it would soon be time to go. She realized even then that she had only been a spectator on the sidelines. She had watched, listened and learned a great deal from her rags-to-riches rock star lovers…and also from their managers, record companies, promoters, roadies, travel people and even chauffeurs. She had a pretty good idea of what she wanted out of life by that time, and more importantly, what she didn’t want. She was ready to focus on her own life and her career. It was time to begin the next chapter of her life. After all, it was 1974.
At age 20, Pennie Lane walked away, got on a plane and flew home to Portland, Oregon. She went back to her real identity and closed the chapter on this amazing and secret part of her life. She knew that rock and roll would go on, and she also knew how quickly groupies were forgotten. She went to college, graduate school and enjoyed a stellar marketing career. She was even married for 10 years. The one thing that never changed was her love of music.
Then a very strange thing happened. In the year 2000, she received a phone call. Someone had remembered her. Ironically, it was not a rock star, but a writer. Even more amazing, in the past three decades the writer had become even more famous than some of the people he had interviewed! He was a man who loved the music as much as Pennie did and, more importantly, he really understood what it felt like to be a fan. They were both very young when they met in 1973, and were good friends for that short period of time. They had not seen each other in 27 years.
The writer wrote a story…not just about Pennie Lane, but about the many girls who loved musicians. He knew that many of us may never be cool and at best, we might be almost famous. Movie critics have said that this kind of life never existed in the music business, but it really did…in 1973. If you were not alive at that time, it might be hard to fathom. It was post-Woodstock and pre-Punk. Men loved women and women loved men. It was the last decade of innocence in rock and roll.
Pennie Lane would like to say just one thing at this point…”Thank you, Cameron, for your memories.”