KENNEBUNKPORT – It’s not easy being an old person in Maine, especially if you don’t have a garage.

Although there are vast truckloads of us — Maine has the oldest population in the nation — we are targets for every conceivable inconvenience and indignity the state can dish out.

The longer-than-my-arm list includes bone-chilling winters (old people are always cold, even in Florida in the summer with heavy wool sweaters); muddy springs (that slippery season of bad falls and hip replacements); and buggy summers (I once saw mosquitoes suck all the blood from an 80-pound elderly woman in less time than it took her to realize she was under attack).

Of course there’s autumn, a lovely season, but finding solace in that brief seasonal respite is like saying that the years 20 to 40 make all of life worthwhile. What about the other 60 years, fore and aft?

But ugly weather is just the beginning. Many other Maine-based problems beset this growing gaggle of geezers.

The Maine Turnpike, for example. It’s old people’s God-given right to drive 35 miles an hour in the far-left lane with no visible body parts except two claw hands clasping the steering wheel. This age-appropriate behavior, perfectly acceptable in many of our warmer climes, elicits no end of rude honking around here.

The ocean off the coast of Maine is not elderly-friendly, either. It’s always teeth-chattering, turn-your-skin-blue cold, except for that one day in September when the Gulf Stream shifts slightly shoreward and it’s not impossible to see tropical fish drawn from Caribbean waters, just like the ones that died in your aquarium.

The rest of the time it’s brrr-city, baby, and we don’t like it one bit. We’d be happier if the ocean temp was closer to our bath water, the ones we take just before our afternoon naps.

Did I mention winter ice? Oh man, don’t get me started. A conspiracy of Maine Medical Center orthopedic physicians, obviously.

And what about all these young Mainers who want our good jobs? They say they’re leaving the state in droves because they can’t find gainful employment.

Don’t they know that baby boomers never quit, never say die? We’re the largest demographic bulge in American history, and by God, we’re going to wring every last mundane minute from our out-of-gas careers. Those young people can wrest our jobs, like our trusty deer rifles, from our cold, dead hands. Better they head to Boston and come back in 15, 20 years.

And one more thing … well, I thought there was one more thing. I forget. Maybe there were two more things. No matter. Did I mention how hard Maine life is without a garage?

Are we crazy? Are we senile? Why do we live here? Why do we suffer so, in our golden years? The answer’s simple, really. We love Maine, and can’t imagine living anywhere else.

Steve Price is a resident of Kennebunkport.