New Jersey has too many damn towns. These 27 need to go.

The Corner Bar in Pilesgrove, which should absorb Woodstown, a town it already surrounds.

Editor’s note: This story was originally published in 2018 and has been updated.

It’s almost spring cleaning season, fellow New Jerseyans, and it’s time we broached a familiar and heretofore unresolved issue in this crazy state: there are just waaaay too many towns here.

New Jersey comprises 565 municipalities, many of which you drive through in less than a minute having never realized that these blips all feature their own mayor, council members and public works people (or person, in some cases).

It stands to reason that fewer public employees on the books would lower taxes in our woefully overtaxed state, so with a blind eye turned to small-town pride — and our tongues in our cheeks, please no threats — here are 27 completely unnecessary New Jersey towns. Merge ‘em or wipe ‘em off the map completely. Really, who would know the difference?

West New York (Hudson County)

Incorporated: 1898

Rutgers national champion Anthony Ashnault, the pride of South Plainfield, should just be from one big Plainfield.

Population: 52,912

Why it needs to go: To the 50,000 souls who have to regularly explain that they live in a town called West New York, New Jersey, I personally apologize on behalf of all rational human beings. Sure, geographically this makes sense: The one-square-mile Hudson County town is, in fact, due west of New York City. But must you call it that and confuse the hell out of everyone? Nay, says I!

Teterboro (Bergen County)

The new Tops Diner in East Newark, which should just be part of Newark.

Incorporated: 1917

Population: 61

Why it needs to go: Ask anyone in ultra-packed Bergen which of its 70 municipalities is most absurd and you’ll hear about Teterboro, which is little more than an airport and a smattering of businesses. And only 86 people actually live there — if your town’s population is smaller than the guest list at any good Bergen County wedding, you need to merge. Move over, Moonachie.

Metuchen, a doughnut town that should be eaten by Edison.

Hi-Nella (Camden County)

Incorporated: 1929

Population: 927

Why it needs to go: Any town with the audacity to include a hyphen in its name is already on thin ice — I’m looking at you Avon-By-The-Sea — but this faceless quarter-square-mile of land between Somerdale and Stratford is particularly unnecessary. We reported in 2010 that this “town” functions with a double-wide trailer for a town hall and one poor man who acts as the Department of Public Works. Why, Jersey, why?

Bar Anticipation in Lake Como, which should obviously be part of Belmar.

East Orange, West Orange and South Orange (Essex County)

Shrewsbury Township.

Incorporated: 1863 (East Orange); 1863 (West Orange); 1869 (South Orange)

A Red Panda roams an exhibit at Turtle Back Zoo in West Orange, which should merge with the other Oranges.

Population: 69,612 (East Orange); 48,843 (West Orange); 18,484 (South Orange)

Why it needs to go: The next time I see a sign denoting “The Oranges” exit on the Parkway, it better be for a fruit grove or a farmer’s market. At best, this unnavigable cluster sounds like sectors of a Florida retirement community. Combine them all into Orange, then you can have low sales tax, Seton Hall University and the Turtle Back Zoo all in one place. Everybody wins!

Teterboro Airport, fine. But Teterboro as a town? No.

Shrewsbury Twp. (Monmouth County)

Incorporated: 1798

Population: 1,076

Why it needs to go: Welcome to the smallest New Jersey municipality by land area: about one-tenth of a square mile squeezed between Tinton Falls and Shrewsbury Borough. When you hear someone mention Shrewsbury, it’s almost always the borough, not this little blip. New Jersey has a handful of township-versus-borough issues but this one is the most egregious. Eli Manning could almost throw a football across Shrewsbury Township — get rid of it.

Tavistock (Camden County)

Incorporated: 1921

Population: 9

Why it needs to go: You tell me, folks — do we really need a town with 9 people in it? Tavistock borough was founded with the purpose of allowing members of the Tavistock Country Club to hit the links on Sundays. Today, the quarter-square mile burg comprises little more than a golf course. I say merge it with Barrington or Haddon and move on.

Lower, Middle and Upper (Cape May County)

Incorporated: 1798

Population: 22,057 (Lower); 20,380 (Middle); 12,539 (Upper)

Why it needs to go:

“Hey, where do you live?”

“Lower.”

“Lower what?”

*sigh*

What unimaginative dunce came up with these horrible town names? Do all these nice South Jerseyans a favor and merge these three and give them a cool name, like “Jerseyville” or “Virtually All Of Cape May County” since it covers a huge swath of Jersey’s southern tip.

Lake Como (Monmouth County)

Incorporated: 2005

Population: 1,697

Why it needs to go: If you know the Jersey Shore, you know Lake Como comprises little more than a big pond, the sprawling party spot Bar Anticipation and a handful of residents who endlessly have to explain to friends that they don’t live in Belmar, the beachfront borough that surrounds them on three sides. Lake Como is almost Belmar — it even used to be South Belmar — just make it Belmar already.

Metuchen (Middlesex County)

Incorporated: 1900

Population: 15,049

Why it needs to go: Metuchen is what we call a “doughnut hole” town: This little Central Jersey burg is completely surrounded by another town — drive in any direction and you’ll hit Edison, then tiny Metuchen, then Edison again. How anyone navigated this godforsaken state before GPS is beyond me. Fill the doughnut hole, legislators; Edison could stand another cute downtown.

Pine Valley (Camden County)

Incorporated: 1929

Population: 21

Why it needs to go: Oh good, another purposeless municipality formed from the separation of Clementon Township in 1929. Like Tavistock, Pine Valley is, quite literally, a golf course masquerading as a town. Pine Valley Golf Club is a well-regarded course, but c’mon, people.

East Newark (Hudson County)

Incorporated: 1895

Population: 2,594

Why it needs to go: Newark is already New Jersey’s largest city — why don’t we make it a little bigger and cease the insanity of Newark proper existing in Essex County and East Newark lying in Hudson County. Seriously, how strong was the booze back then? And hey, then the glorious Jersey landmark Tops Diner can be part of a real city!

Pohatcong (Warren County)

Incorporated: 1882

Population: 3,241

Why it needs to go: Here we go again: North Jerseyans have to wrestle with Hopatcong, Pohatcong and Lopatcong — say that three times fast. Pohatcong is the smallest of the tricky trio, population-wise, and it’s the hardest to remember. Sorry, Pohatcongers.

Victory Gardens (Morris County)

Incorporated: 1951

Population: 1,582

Why it needs to go: Victory Gardens was created as a World War II housing project built in Randolph for Picatinny Arsenal employees, hence the town’s moniker. Uh, the war’s over, you guys, and Victory Gardens isn’t even two-tenths of a square-mile. The widest section of the town isn’t much larger than the length of MetLife Stadium — and it has its own mayor. Stop the madness!

Loch Arbour (Monmouth County)

Incorporated: 1957

Population: 224

Why it needs to go: I live at the Shore in Monmouth County and I reserve the right to believe that all beachfront property from Route 36 down to Convention Hall should just be considered Long Branch. That means no Deal, no Allenhurst, and definitely no Loch Arbour. Riding my bike, I cross through the fattest section of Loch Arbour in one minute flat. Any town where my rusty old Mongoose can make it through in 57 seconds doesn’t deserve its own government.

North Plainfield (Somerset County) and South Plainfield (Middlesex)

Incorporated: 1885 (North Plainfield); 1926 (South Plainfield)

Population: 22,808 (North Plainfield); 24,338 (South Plainfield)

Why it needs to go: Here’s a fun word problem: Vinnie needs to deliver pastrami to delis in Plainfield, North Plainfield and South Plainfield. How many counties does Vinnie visit on his trip? The answer, mind-bogglingly, is three: Plain old Plainfield is part of Union County, North Plainfield lies in Somerset, and South Plainfield in Middlesex. Why? WHY?! I don’t care if they have to redraw county lines, give us one big Plainfield, please.

Rockleigh (Bergen County)

Incorporated: 1923

Population: 407

Why it needs to go: In square mileage, Alaska is about 2,700 times larger than Bergen County, yet it only has about twice as many recognized towns. Think about that for a second and realize that we really don’t need Rockleigh, a ritzy little square of about 400 people and one popular wedding venue. Just combine it with adjacent, celebrity-laden Alpine so a few more people can say they live in the same neighborhood as Chris Rock and Lil’ Kim.

Woodstown (Salem County)

Incorporated:1882

Population: 3,678

Why it needs to go: Way down in Salem County, Woodstown is one-half of the Wood-Pile portmanteau, combining Woodstown — another purposeless doughnut hole town — with the much larger township that completely surrounds it: Pilesgrove, home to the best bar in the state. Wood-Pile needs to just be Pilesgrove and everyone knows it.

South Hackensack (Bergen County)

Incorporated: 1935

Population: 2,701

Why it needs to go: South Hackensack bumps up against Teterboro, creating a useless border between two equally useless towns. Drive in normal Hackensack and you’ll need a private investigator to discover when you’ve actually entered or left South Hackensack. The solution, you ask? Now, this may sound crazy, but why not just, you know, absorb it into THE TOWN IT’S ALREADY NAMED AFTER? Bergen County makes me so angry.

North Caldwell and West Caldwell (Essex County)

Incorporated: 1898 (North Caldwell); 1904 (West Caldwell)

Population: 6,694 (North Caldwell); 11,012 (West Caldwell)

Why it needs to go: So, the Caldwells are named for James Caldwell, a Presbyterian minister who was a spiritual beacon for New Jersey patriots during the Revolutionary War. History describes him as a pretty good dude, but still — he doesn’t need three freaking towns named after him when they could just as easily all be Caldwell. This isn’t an “Oprah” episode where everyone gets to go home with a Caldwell. Though such a change might’ve really irked North Caldwell’s most famous fictional resident, Tony Soprano.

Guttenberg (Hudson County)

Incorporated: 1859

Population: 12,017

Why it needs to go: Guttenberg is the least interesting of that glut of Hudson County towns everyone assumes is just part of Hoboken or Jersey City — Union City, North Bergen and fellow “needs to go” lister West New York. Actually, it has one fun fact, that it’s the most congested town in America based on inhabitants per square mile. And it’s only a quarter-square mile, anyway! Fold it into North Bergen, then actually make North Bergen part of Bergen County, because common sense still separates us from the apes. Also, Guttenberg is annoyingly pronounced as GUT-enberg, not GOOT-enberg like the guy from “Police Academy.” This alone should spell banishment.

Woodlynne (Camden County)

Incorporated: 1901

Population: 2,902

Why it needs to go: Let’s play a game. If you can find Woodlynne on a map before I finish this jigsaw puzzle of Georges Seurat’s “A Sunday on La Grande Jatte,” you win a free hoagie. Spoiler alert: You will not win a free hoagie. Woodlynne is a micro-town in Camden County, less than one-third the size of Six Flags Great Adventure — ironic as the town began as an amusement park in 1895. Now it barely deserves to be called a Philly suburb. Like several purposeless municipalities on this list, it’s barely a quarter-square mile and has no business governing itself. Give it to Collingswood, celebrate the merger at Zeppoli and all will be satisfied.

Bobby Olivier may be reached at [email protected]. Follow him on Twitter @BobbyOlivier and Facebook.