My parents didn't smoke, which is a good thing because cigarette smoke used to make me ill (though I smoked in my early 20s, by which time smoke didn't bother me any more). The largest plumes of cigarette smoke I remember from my childhood is whenever I had to knock on the door of the staff room at any of my schools. The cloud of smoke that emerged when a teacher opened that door was so thick you could launch an enemy attack and literally no one could see it coming.
Ah, being thrown around the back of station wagons!
I grew up in the back of Volvos. I'm the youngest of four kids, so was always stuck in the back. It was a right of passage for kids in my neighbourhood. My childhood car rides weren't all reckless, though; my dad had a rule that you had to be at least 11 years old to ride in the front passenger seat, and you always had to wear a seatbelt when driving up front. Apart from the fact that I know several people with lifelong injuries due to not wearing belts in a crash, I feel naked sitting in the front of a car without a belt on, thanks to my dad being sensible.
Also, to be a nag, I know a handful of people who may not be here today had they not been wearing bike helmets. It's not the speed at which you ride; it's the force of the car hitting you that sends you flying.