By ROBERT FOWLER

I grew up in the blue-collar environs east of the 610 Loop -- long before there was a loop. I subsequently settled down in that same area as a family and working man, and I had little or no contact with the wealthiest segments of Houston society.

I was not ignorant of their existence, mind you. I had driven my beaten-up jalopy onto the grand streets and boulevards of River Oaks on several occasions. I had gawked at the magnificence of the structures which I suppose pass for houses where the elite live. And, I admit, I had snickered over the pretentiousness of the society pages in the paper more than once or twice.

But the "genre of the genteel" was quite foreign to me until the dayI found employment as a chauffeur with a local limo service.

My initial reaction was shock. I had no idea that there were so many wealthy people. Or that there were so many huge plots of landscape devoted exclusively to the showcasing of their wealth and, I suppose, good taste. Stately lawns with opulent residences can be found across large regions of Harris County and beyond. I was oblivious, right up to the time it became my occupation to drive among them. And that's not to mention the numerous high-rise apartments and condominiums, (someone please explain the difference to me someday), the luxury hotels, the five-star restaurants, the boutiques, the spas, and God knows every business and service imaginable in order to make the blue bloods' lives a bit more bearable. The sheer numbers, not to mention the extravagance, staggered me.

My second reaction was confusion. The people who rode in the back of my car were, with a few exceptions, strikingly unhappy and discontent. Totally self-absorbed and driven, their entire focus appeared to be the accumulation of more money. I failed to see, and continue to fail to see, how another million or two could conceivable satisfy someone if their first $10 million or $20 million couldn't. And yet they wanted, even needed, more. (And, I have no doubt: They got it and then some.) I found the insatiable nature of their greed to be quite perplexing and not a little frightening.

My third reaction was contempt. My clients were predominantly white, well-educated and male. To my great misfortune, they were also arrogant, rude and notoriously niggardly. They were, to a man, highly conscious of their exalted status and went to whatever lengths necessary to ensure that I was conscious of that status as well. If that required brow-beating, so be it, but, for the most part, most understood that simple intimidation, using a crude symphony of authoritative voice inflections, sarcastic tones and subtle gestures, was sufficient to keep me in my place. Needless to say, this did not sit well with me, a middle-aged white man, struggling desperately to eke out a living. Their unwillingness to hand out even the most meager of tips endeared me even less.

My last feeling is sympathy. As they fly through life, seemingly oblivious to the trials and tribulations of the less well off among them, they fail to recognize their almost comical insignificance. With their apparent belief that the rest of the world was placed on this Earth to serve their petty, insatiable whims and desires, or to stroke their enormous egos, they underestimate the virtues and importance of the simple everyman. And they are ignorant of those things that bring purpose to what would otherwise be an empty wasteland of a world. Those are love and concern for our fellow man, and the conviction that we are all, indeed, our brother's keeper.

And I am sympathetic and, increasingly, empathetic toward the working poor, the homeless and the downtrodden. Sympathetic, because the typical passenger in the back of my luxurious limo never cast an eye in their direction, did not care to acknowledge their existence, and would not throw them a crumb unless they mowed his lawn or washed his car or walked his dog. Even then, it would be as little as he could get away with.

I am sympathetic toward the impoverished because, if my life continues on its current downward trend -- I am now unemployed -- I will soon join their ever-increasing ranks.