Dear everybody, thank you. For the good feelings, even though the world’s felt ill. For  interviews, the articles, the comments, the Andrew Jolliffe this and Andrew Jolliffe that, the you-couldn’t-invent Andrew Jolliffe. Andrew Jolliffe is blushing. For welcoming me into your agencies, home offices, dessert islands, broom cupboards, wherever, even in a dressing gown, jumper and underpants, odd socks or worse. Or less. For turning a blind eye to the coffee stain on the collar, the smeary glasses and the chest hair. And for giving me presents when I get inside. A brief. A bravo. A constructive comment or sixty-five.…