With the economy is tatters, the price of groceries, gas and housing climbing out of control—with America at war with basically everybody, our governor, Kim Reynolds, is concerned about making Iowans safer from…wait for it…sunshine.
That’s right, we’re talking about the same Gov. Reynolds who wants every Iowan to have Covid and a concealed weapon. Now she is about to sign legislation protecting us from the ravages of sunlight—specifically the sun that can invade our cars right through the windows. (Think of it as undocumented foreign sunshine.)
Currently Iowa law requires vehicle windows to allow at least 70 percent light transmission. Driver’s side and passenger windows tinted more than that can get you a $130 ticket. Reynolds argues that lowering the transmission limit to 50 percent will bring Iowa more in line with other Midwestern states. Illinois, for example is at 35 percent. Right now, Iowa allows the same amount of sunshine as California. (And what has sunshine ever done for California?)
While we might be justifiably suspicious of legislation designed to keep us in the dark, there may be good reasons for darker windows. Anybody who has ever hopped into a hot car with black vinyl seats, wearing shorts or a swimsuit, understands the gravity of the situation. Also, some people are especially sensitive to glare or prone to sunburns and must otherwise resort to the use of sunglasses and long sleeves.
Although clearer car windows can alert you to the dangers of oncoming traffic, darker windows have undeniable cool factor. First of all, letting in less sun keeps the interior, you know, cooler. Plus, having dark windows makes you feel like a movie star or a drug lord. Or a vampire. Even if you never do anything illegal or romantic in your car, you can pretend to be mysterious. Other drivers will see your murky outline through the tinted glass and envy you for your exciting life.
Darker windows help reduce the “fishbowl effect” of driving around while exposed to the world. What do you do if you need to pick your nose or cry? Or both at once? What if you have an urge to sing along with the radio and you’re a terrible singer? Being recognized by someone you know could scar you for life. Maybe you’re not a bad person in general. But a jerk in a Jeep has just cut you off in traffic. You spontaneously shake your fist and scream something about him not knowing who his real father is. Hidden behind tinted windows, you and your threats are thankfully invisible.
Maybe you’re sitting at a stoplight and it feels like the world is caving in on you and you can’t take it one more second. You just need a moment to collect yourself. Before long, the crisis passes, but it would be best if nobody witnesses the meltdown. Some say that sunshine is the best disinfectant. But darkness is never having to say you’re sorry.