The weather reports from Beirut
It was 1979 and I was working as a cub reporter in Beirut for United Press International. I often had to work the late-night shift, and one of the responsibilities of the late person was to file the weather report from Beirut, which would be included in UPI's worldwide weather roundup that went out to newspapers each day, with the highs and lows. The only problem was that there was no weatherman in Beirut, or at least none I was aware of. The country was in the midst of a civil war. Who cared what the temperature was? People were just glad to be alive. The only temperature you cared about in Beirut in those days was your own - 98.6 degrees. So I estimated what the temperature was, often by ad hoc polling. Gathering the weather report basically involved my shouting down the hall or across the room: "Hey, Ahmed, how does it feel out there today?" And Ahmed or Sonia or Daoud would shout back, "Ya'ani, it feels hot:' "About ninety degrees?" I would ask. "Sure, Mr. Thomas, whatever you say," the answer would come back. "Something like that:' So I would write, "High 90 degrees:' Then I would ask later, "Kinda cool out there now?" "Sure, Mr. Thomas," the answer would come back. "About seventy-two degrees, would you say?" "Sure, Mr. Thomas, whatever you say," the answer would come back. And so I would write, "Low 72 degrees:' And thus was the weather report filed from Beirut.

Thomas L. Friedman. The Lexus and the Olive Tree.