I gave him the finger. He took my pic.
"Craig," I said. "Why did I just give you the finger?"
"It's not my camera," he said, and went off to someone else and said, "Hey, give me the finger!"
Post-Hugo-Ceremony at the bar is always a pretty emotional timespace. I'd gotten very miffed at the people sitting in front of me who'd turned around and glared at me every time I cheered and applauded while the nominee and winner names were read out (I mean, honestly, what kind of person goes to an awards ceremony prepared to act like a giant buzz-kill to anyone nearby who cheers and applauds?), and that combined with the so-close-and-yet-so-far revelation about 0wnz0red was enough that my finger here is more genuine than fanciful.
As it turns out, the camera belonged to Scott Edelman, the first professional editor to publish one of my stories and one of the nicest guys I know.
Scott's gallery of Craig's pix of birds-being-flipped after the Hugos is actually pretty funny. There's a lot of truth revealed in people's facial expressions when you send them to an awards ceremony whose fruits they all aspire to, then pour a couple drinks down them, then ask them to make a rude gesture. Just saying.