My brother Tim and I made a road trip to Rochester over the weekend. Mom and Dad are always glad to see their journalist sons — Tim is a sportswriter at another local newspaper off Wolf Road — and there was time for both casual amusement and serious annoyance as the mile markers zipped by the windows.
Here are the highlights:

* I drove Tim’s Honda Civic for the first hundred miles west on Mr. Dewey’s fabulous New York State Thruway, as the Sports Media Star had to make his weekly telephone call to Rodger Wyland’s “Big Board Sports” show on Fox Radio (980-AM).

Tim generally calls at 11 a.m. on Friday, and is on the air seconds later; I think he likes to make Rodger sweat for a few minutes, and maybe think, “Gee, did Tim forget? How am I going to fill this segment?”

Rodger and Tim screw around for about 20, and Tim has great fun reminding all Rodger’s listeners the broadcast starts in the host’s basement, and the signal, conversations and commercials are all mixed at the station and sent out to the Capital Region.

The funniest thing that happened was some guy e-mailing Rodger and saying Tim’s commentary gets him so steamed, he thinks about hanging himself whenever Tim begins his traditional rants. Tim said he would go to a hardware store, buy some rope and hang the guy himself. Now that’s a full-service guest — no wonder Rodger likes those trash-talking sessions.

I felt like Kato driving the Green Hornet around. Tim probably should have sat in the back seat.
“You ought to put my brother on, one of these days,” Tim told Rodger.
Hey Rodger — I’m game. I can’t do a “Rodger Wyland” voice the way Tim does, and know very little about horse racing. I’m not bad on pop culture, if you want to talk about the new “Iron Man” movie.

And I can promise people who listen will not look for sturdy beams in the basement.

* The Thruway has become the Great Magnet for fiends on wheels. Tim and I noticed dozens of people talking on cell phones. Just passing the time, hands to their ears, talking about nothing. Blah, blah, blah.

I wish the state would boost the fine for this offense — how about $500? How about $1,000? Make it $5,000! I’d never worry about paying out the dough, because I’d never get the ticket, because I don’t talk on cell phones when I’m driving! Why is this concept so hard for people to understand?

Some of the Thruway dopes also were speed kings. Yeah, the limit is 65 mph, and like many others, I’ll sneak up to 70 or so on a clear, dry day. The troopers aren’t going to roll the gum ball machines and flag you down for a few miles over the posted number.

But the Wilkin Brothers saw dozens of high-powered mutants zooming east and west at 85 or 90 mph, red-eyed refugees from the Bazooko Circus, looking for their next gig in the Freak Kingdom.

The more efficient morons came right up to someone in the “passing” lane, on the far left, and just stayed on the guy’s tail. The driver got the message: “Oh, there’s a cretin 12 inches from my bumper ... he must be one serious rat-fink.”

The guy got the hell over to the right lane and prayed he didn’t get chased off the road, the way a leopard chases a snow bunny. The slob just stood on the accelerator and, like a vampire, looked for another victim on the long cement passage.

I hope in the future, the state can find a way to use “E-ZPass” technology to keep the lawbreakers in line. Everyone will be driving with those windshield tags by then — it will be mandatory for registration — and high-tech scanners on bridges or posted at roadsides will “read” pick-up trucks and sports utility vehicles hauling ashes at 90 or 105. They’ll see them coming, they’ll see them going. The computers will figure the speed, and Big Brother will send out the tickets to the romper-stompers.
I hope they print “Have a nice day” on the bottom.

* On the road back east on Sunday, we still had the yakkers and the pedal heads — all of them trying their hardest to ruin our weekend.

But we also had John Sterling and Suzyn Waldman on the air for part of the trip.
John and Suzyn are the New York Yankees’ radio broadcast team, and while I can never root for the Steinbrenners, I have developed a kind of corny appreciation for Sterling. He calls a nice game, even with all the “It is high, it is far, it is gone” jazz on those New York long balls. He’s a ton better than smarmy Michael Kay on YES.

Tim and I listened as Baltimore prepared to give the Yankees hell during that Sunday game — they didn’t — and John mentioned one of the upcoming promotions.

“Cat Night?” said my brother. “What are they doing with cats at Yankee Stadium!”

Tim had heard John wrong. The Yankees are holding another “Cap Night” at the stadium on May 21, when the Orioles will be in town.

We both thought “Cat Night” could work. Maybe the first 1,000 fans would get a free cat who needs a home ... maybe they could dress the fang-heads in miniature Yankee uniforms. Such novel thinking could give baseball a whole new take on “Bat Night.”

I hope Tim and Rodger talk about these innovations this Friday, 11 a.m., Fox Radio, 980-AM. I just hope that guy looking for the rope is not listening.