It is difficult to take seriously a heritage agency that proclaims as a national tragedy the demolition this spring of the Farnam Block building on Broadway Avenue.

The Farnam Block was a dump. Yes, it had that funky, split-level, handicapped-inaccessible facade, but that was it. Behind was an irredeemable mess and historically undistinguished. That Joni Mitchell supposedly performed in a basement coffee house there is the building's greatest claim to fame.

I say "supposedly" because the exhaustive, lifetime chronology of appearances on Joni Mitchell's website makes no mention of it. According to her own chronology, she made five appearances, including her first paid gig, in the early 1960s at a coffee house called The Louis Riel. It was across the street from the Farnam Block in what is now Calories restaurant. That's something for patrons to think about as they enjoy their lentils and quinoa.

Mitchell played at the Legion in 1969, and twice later that year at the Centennial Auditorium. She was at the Centennial again in 1974, her last performance in Saskatoon. The record shows she never played at any venue in the Farnam Block. Those who remember seeing her there, well, the '60s were a long time ago and who really remembers who was where?

The documentary evidence is compelling enough, however, that we should not be saying anymore that Joni Mitchell played in the Farnam Block. She might have bought cigarettes from a convenience store in the Farnam Block. She might have had a skirt taken in at a tailor shop in the Farnam Block. She might have picked up family snapshots when Gibson's Photography was in there. But she never performed in the building. The main claim to fame now for the old rats' nest is that Joni Mitchell played across the street.

Now that the Farnam Block is gone and the property levelled, federal heritage authorities are getting into the act. The National Trust of Canada, which, until recently, I had never heard of, says the Farnam Block's demolition was a major heritage loss for the whole country, one of the top 10 of the last year. You have to wonder about the building that came 11th and didn't make the list.

A spokesperson for the National Trust described the Farnam Block as a "wellknown building downtown," which makes you wonder if they know any more about the building's condition than they do about its location. The spokesman further characterized the Farnam as "a typical kind of centuryold commercial building that you would find in the downtown of many cities." Not unique. Not distinguished. Not even important or significant. Typical. This from the people who wanted the pile preserved for all eternity.

The Farnam was never designated even as a local heritage building, and now it's a historic national loss? Please.

Preserving the facade, the only part of the building that isn't a dump, reportedly would have cost $700,000. Of this, the National Trust offered to contribute not one cent. In lieu of actual assistance, they now deliver recriminations.

We don't need to pay federal bureaucrats to wring their hands over what's done. If they could help, the time to step up was last April. If they can't help, what are we paying them for?

Buildings, first and foremost, exist to be used. The Farnam Block was useless, or even worse than useless as a building empty and neglected for two years on a major urban street and falling ever further into disrepair. That's not heritage, that's urban cancer. If this "defined the neighbourhood," like the National Trust said it did, too bad for the neighbourhood.

Even as a parking lot awaiting development, the property is serving more of a purpose than the building did. At least people are using it. People will use whatever is built in its place, too. It might even be a better building than the Farnam Block ever was. It certainly will be better than an untenable dump.