Dylan's worth is estimated at $180 million, by the way. He won't be out on a street corner selling pencils anytime soon. Thus, whoever thinks he "needs the money" (those three words are in quotes above, though I can't find who's being quoted) is misguided.

Even so, rich people, even those not in danger of imminent poverty (relatively few), guard their wealth ferociously. Anybody who pays even casual attention -- you just have to scan the news from Wall Street, the corporate realm, politics, and/or show business -- knows that. The story of Dylan's current private issues, including his desire to protect his fortune, is out there if you're interested.

If Dylan were in mid-career, not 73 years old, this would be a matter of relatively little consequence. And maybe, all things considered, it still is. Yet, if you care about such matters, the reality is that time is running down. To quote somebody or other:

Let us not talk falsely now
The hour is getting late.

I don't doubt that Dylan likes Sinatra songs. Doesn't mean he can sing them. I like George Eliot novels. Doesn't mean I can write them.

In the end, of course, Dylan is free to do whatever he chooses, while the rest of us are free to approve or disapprove. As far as that goes, one might even argue that after the magnificent Tempest, best heard as a summing up of a long and historic artistic career, maybe the creative Dylan needs a rest. Maybe, too, the rest of us need a rest from Dylan.