How many windows should an old hotel have?

Many years ago, around 1980, when I was still in high school, I was watering the lawn. I no longer remember if I actually heard or just imagined hearing the the song lyrics suggesting that "there [are] too many windows in this old hotel." (Apparently, to make matters worse, some of the rooms were "filled with reckless pride.") At first, I was not sure why this song reminded me of my friend Dan Chase, but then it occurred to me that the singer was Dan Fogelberg. (A previous blog entry discusses the associative network of knowledge, which explains this triggering of the "Dan" node).

Anyway, how many rooms should an old hotel, optimally, have? Does this figure differ from a that of a new hotel?

It seems rather sad that nobody lives in the hotel. Was it the excessive number of windows, the irresponsible pride, some other factor, or a combination of factors that caused the hotel's demise? The fact that the "walls [had] grown sturdy" seems an advantage rather than a disadvantage, though I have difficulty understanding why the walls would become sturdier rather than experiencing decay.

Well, at least the song provides some nice inspiration: "Seek inspiration in daily affairs/Now you soul is in trouble and requires repairs/And the voices you hear at the top of the stairs/Are only echoes of unanswered prayers/Echoes of unanswered prayers."