Like you, Skippy, I'm 38 (and a half) and have never KNOWINGLY smoked anything. However, there is in existence a photograph of me at a hospital party, circa Christmas 1987, with a fag between the fingers of my extended hand. I can't imagine having put it in my mouth, but can't be sure. I was well sauced.
I claim no personal victory for common sense. My parents both grew up with smoking fathers and were rabidly anti-smoking themselves, so smoking was just an irrelevance when I was a child. Then, when I got to "experimentation in the bicycle shed" age, my grandfather died of lung cancer, aged 66. My other grandfather had COPD and was always coughing and spitting and sending for my dad in the middle of the night.
My workplace is plastered with anti-smoking posters because it's a surgery, and we have a brilliant pharmacist across the road who does smoking cessation counselling and a sared-care nicotine replacement programme with us.