2001 E-150 Sherrod Conversion Van Tv Sofa Bed Clean $599 Ship on 2040-cars

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Ford Transit Skyliner Concept does discreet luxury in NYC

There's something to be said for luxed-out vans. They're cool, and as a means of getting chauffeured about, they're extremely comfortable and far more low key than your typical executive luxury sedan. For the 2014 New York Auto Show, Galpin Auto Sports has shown the potential of the new-for-the-US Ford Transit as an ultra-luxurious people hauler.
The Transit Skyliner Concept, which we previewed last week, sports four finely crafted captain's buckets that can be moved into different formations based on need. Want to watch a movie? The seats can be swung around to face a 52-inch screen. Riding along with some business associates? A table can be popped up. There's even a configuration for tailgating.
The materials are, unsurprisingly, pretty plush. The leather seats and wood floors (yes, wood floors in a van) look great, while the trunk and its customized luggage are a nice touch, as well.

Ford tells Congress it collects and protects some driver data

Last month Ford's Jim Farley made waves at the CES when it was reported he told show attendees, "We have GPS in your car, so we know what you're doing. By the way, we don't supply that data to anyone." Farley and Ford later partially retracted and clarified that statement.
Spurred by a desire for further transparency on data collection policies, Ford representatives answered questions from Congress, specifically Senator Al Franken (D-Minn.), about driver privacy.
The Detroit News reports that Ford told Congress it does collect some vehicle location data in an effort to "troubleshoot and improve our products" on behalf of the driver. Ford went on to say that it only collects limited data after receiving permission from owners.

Project Ugly Horse: Part VII

Devils, Details and Weight Reduction
There are many things I could call this exercise. A party is not one of them.
I've spent three days crammed in the axle well of this 1989 Mustang with nothing to keep me company beyond a trouble light, a DeWalt drill on the very last of its legs and billion razor sharp, red hot slivers of metal with an affinity for my most sensitive of regions. My joints are raw from crawling around on the concrete. I'm half deaf from the shriek of the spot weld cutter and the boom of the cold chisel and hammer.