Thanksgiving seems to have come at the right time for Dodger fans, who have new things to be grateful for amid the ongoing reminder that you can’t have it all.

A magnificent season by Clayton Kershaw brought home a major postseason award, a similar one by Matt Kemp did not. The two and their somewhat forgotten teammates provided memories we’ll still be talking about years from now, but of course not the ultimate memory of a World Series title.

On the first day of the month came the announcement of the sale of the franchise — the slow-cooking turkey in the oven that will be our feast when it is served, though we can only anticipate this morning how smoothly the cooking will go and how it will ultimately taste.

I had visions of a pretty major soul-bearing post today, but I have mixed feelings about it. We’ll just say that for a long time now, I’ve been trying to cook a better turkey and instead have kept burning it. Sunday night, I decided to take a break from such culinary efforts and instead focus on other, smaller things that I can more easily accomplish, such as working extended metaphors beyond their capacity for effectiveness. 

I’ve been afraid to look away from the big picture, afraid to take my eyes off the road. All that long-distance driving to nowhere made me bitter, really bitter. I still have real fears about what’s going to happen if I don’t get to where I think I need to be, but the fear hasn’t helped. I thought it was driving me toward my goals, but instead, in the words of the Boss, it was just driving me down.

So I’m lowering the bar. It’s shortsighted, but that’s the point. 

I won’t lie to you — there’s a hope that if I do some little things right, big dreams will come true. But no promises. Right now, it will have to be enough to get some little things in the bank.

Some might say the bar has been too low for the Dodgers for quite some time now, but I’d say their past 23 years mirrors what I’ve been feeling inwardly. The goals are there; the execution has been lacking and the angst at times overwhelming. I honestly don’t know when all will be right in the Dodger world, but I do know that I’ve never wanted to be pissed off that it isn’t. 

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone, and all my best, wherever you are. And just one more thing: The other day, as God as my witness, my 7-year-old asked me if turkeys can fly.