Brady – The Geographic Center of Texas

Driving through the outskirts — perhaps now the center — of Brady, the highway is lined with restaurants and all manner of small businesses. But before we get to the heart of these privately owned shops and cafes, we pass the ubiquitous Super Walmart, set well back from the street with a parking lot that goes on forever — it is packed full of cars this Saturday afternoon.

In the center of the town square, the courthouse is as I remember — it continues to beckon the newcomer to become a resident — at least stay a while and see what this town is all about. Which, of course, is our intention.

McCulloch Count Courthouse and McCulloch County Jail in Brady, Texas

The Trucountry Inn

The three story Trucountry Inn — formerly the Brady Hotel built in the 1920s, renovated and restored in 2020 by C&W singer Heather Myles — is not on the square but adjacent to it in the northwest corner. At 3:30 on a Saturday afternoon, the parking lot here is relatively empty. The sign by the entrance says to Ring the Bell. We do so, but we also push open the door, walking into another world. 

To me, Trucountry sounds like cowboys, cattle, barbed wire, and weathered wood — this is definitely not it — at least in the lobby . This space has the feel of decades-old elegance with its grand staircase, upholstered Victorian era furniture, and antique tiled floor. On our right is a sculpture — not marble, perhaps plaster — of the Greek god Atlas, who has shrugged. Not classical in style, it is an updated interpretation of the Greek god with the features of a 1930s movie idol. Atlas rests on a bench, looking at the world beside him. I guess he became weary of all that responsibility and said, “To hell with it.” Or perhaps he is wondering if the world needs help and he should carry it on his shoulders. I’ll probably never know the real story. When I finally ask, I am met with raised eyebrows as quizzical as my own.

The on-site manager, Ivan, baseball hat on his head, comes running down the stairs to greet us. He checks us off of his list of expected arrivals and offers to help with our luggage. Michael declines the offer despite the stairway going straight up — twenty-three steps up — to the second floor. 

Ivan shows us to our room — the Hollywood Suite. The suite looks just like it was portrayed on their website, with the centerpiece of the four rooms (including a bathroom) being a cheerful red refrigerator. We stash our things, return to the lobby and begin our exploration of the town square.

Brady Town Square

Culture shock awaits — we are in a different country. It is a Saturday, yet there is no hustle. No bustle. No people. We seem to be the lone window shoppers that stroll the walkway fronting many stores and restaurants that have already closed their doors to the public for the day.  

We pass by a furniture store, and I am surprised to see signs for a lamp with a price tag of $59.95, offering an option of 120 days credit the same as cash, or payments of $1.95 a week for 52 weeks. I feel as if I have traveled back in time to the 1950s. I look for a soda fountain that sells chocolate malted milkshakes and am sorely disappointed that one does not exist.

We cross the street and explore the edge of the square fronting the highway. It is busier here, and things are jumping. We wander into a store that takes up half of the block with many names over the various sections — the one that catches my fancy is called Rust and Roses. 

Through the Looking Glass

We open the door and fall through Alice in Wonderland’s looking glass. I am overwhelmed! There are no words. Everything is here, from the very old and delicate and beautiful to the bizarre to the slightly old. You could spend a lifetime exploring these aisles and still miss half of it.

I turn a corner seeing a vignette of a newborn baby laying on top of a female mannequin, and — my jaw drops.

Leaving the past behind, we continue our journey around the remainder of the square till we reach the hotel and make our way to the car, pointing our collective noses toward the ubiquitous Super Walmart. After checking into our room, I discovered it has no hairdryer, and the kitchenette is devoid of both cooking utensils and a stove. I need to learn to cook with a microwave—I know it is possible—but until then, it will be coffeecake and restaurants for us during our sojourn here.

Walmart Super Store

I have never shopped for groceries at Walmart before, and this is a whole new experience. There is not a private label brand lurking anywhere — that I can see anyway. I throw junk food into my grocery cart that I would never buy at home. Finally, I have to stop myself and begin my hunt for a hairdryer. When I finally leave the store, the sun is setting, and I have a 360-degree view of the sky. It is on fire. It is magnificent! And a totally new experience for me. I have never seen skies this wide.

After my shopping experience and seeing all that food, I am ready for dinner. Luckily, so is Michael. After a few misdirection’s on my part — and the patience of a saint on Michael’s part — we arrive.

Boondocks Seafood

We walk into Boondocks the top rated restaurant in this heart of Texas town. It is a restaurant that is locally owned and operated, with their Facebook page touting the fact that the owners have 22 years of restaurant experience behind them. A woman standing in back of the long counter in front of us is ready to take our order, but we aren’t ready to give it. The menu is extensive, and I don’t know where to begin.

Michael decides on a crawfish po’boy, and he always seems to make better decisions than I do. So, I follow suit — almost. I choose a shrimp po’boy. The woman behind the counter tells us to sit where we want and to help ourselves to a bowl of pinto beans while we wait for a server to deliver our food. The beans are good — the tea is good. My po’boy sandwich is great! Perfect, in fact — shrimp are plentiful, crunchy, and tender. The grilled bun is heaven, and the fries are crisp and salty. I need to sing the praises of this seafood restaurant out loud! It is a delightful, wonderful surprise, and our bill is under $30.

The Hollywood Suite

Kitchenette and Bedroom of the Hollywood, Texas Suite

Back in our country inn we begin to acclimate to our surroundings. While I place my stash from Walmart out of sight and hang up our clothes, Michael wanders down the hall to check out the the small balcony in the front of the hotel. I am still organizing things when he returns and begins learning the ins and outs of operating a new TV system, which appears to be the only game in town this quiet Saturday night. We didn’t even think to bring a deck of cards — a few extra books. A magazine or two.

TV Woes

Walking into the cozy living room with the extra large TV, and taking my place on the comfortable couch, I am about to suggest that the sound is a wee bit loud — very loud. We need to turn it down. However, I can tell by Michael’s look of frustration that opening my mouth right now is NOT a good idea. He tells me he can’t figure out how to lower the sound. The volume control system doesn’t work. The TV screams at us no matter what he does.

Michael becomes well acquainted with the tools app on the screen, and tells it to tone down. Often. But still, nothing. The TV continues to blare. Scream. The room is small. The TV is almost as large as the couch; we are in the Hollywood Suite, I would expect no less. The speakers are good. Too good. Suddenly, there is silence. Then I hear a mumbled, “What the…” Michael accidentally discovered the tiniest buttons on the side of the tiniest remote control ever made.

Searching for a movie worthy of our time, we discover we must sign up for everything we choose. Finally, we find Netflix, and of course we must sign in. And of course, I can’t remember my password. I try my logical three. None of them work. I turn to my phone, try to log-into Netflix — can’t — then I go through the machinations of changing my password, keying in the code texted to me, and change my password to what I thought it was in the first place. I’m exhausted!

Wine and Cake

After what seems like an eternity, our problems are solved, and we feel that we deserve a glass of wine. We brought a bottle of wine. We brought a corkscrew. However, there are no wine glasses. So, we pretend we are on a picnic and use the two large jar-shaped glasses with handles that are available. They are pink and perky — appropriate, I think. Then we decide cake and wine sound like a perfect combination. When I look for a knife to cut the coffee cake — there isn’t one. A Girl Scout at heart, I use the handle of a thin spoon, and it fills the bill nicely. The paper towels provided make a handy dessert plate.

Sitting here, sipping wine and munching on my slice of cake, I start to laugh. I can’t stop laughing — Michael thinks I’m losing it. But all’s well that ends well, and I can’t fault anyone but myself. Every place we travel, a new TV system proves to be a challenge — always conquered. And I was never promised a rose garden — or a fully equipped kitchen. And the extremely reasonable price of less than $100 a night for a four-room suite is a gift. So is the Trucountry Inn, and the town of Brady.